THE  SEVEN  AGES  OF 
WASHINGTON  .  -* 

A  BIOGRAPHY 

BY 

OWEN    WISTER 

AUTHOR    OF    "THE    VIRGINIAN,"     "LADY    BALTIMORE," 
"U.    S.    GRANT A    BIOGRAPHY,"     ETC.,    ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


gotk 

THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

1909 

All  rights  reterved 


COPYRIGHT,  1907, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  elcctrotyped.    Published  November,  1907.    Reprinted 
May,  1908;  August,  1909. 


Norfoooto 

J.  8.  Gushing  Co.  —  Berwick  <fe  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO 

S.  B.  W. 

FROM 

HER    SON 


V 

225923 


PREFACE 

To  an  Invitation  from  the  University  of  Pennsylvania  Preface 
this  book  is  due.  The  Washington  orator  chosen  for  IQOJ 
found  himself  at  a  late  hour  compelled  to  renounce  his 
tasky  and  this  honor  fell  from  him  upon  me.  Saving  its 
scheme,  little  of  the  speech  remains ;  English  meant  for 
the  ear  of  an  audience  differs  in  fibre  from  English  meant 
for  the  eye  of  a  reader ;  besides  this,  the  limit  of  an 
address  shuts  out  much  that  belongs  to  the  subject.  I 
had  hoped  to  write  this  book  short  enough  to  be  read  in 
one  comfortable  sitting  ;  such  brevity  has  proved  beyond 
my  skill.  I  have  attempted  a  full-length  portrait  of 
Washington,  with  enough  of  his  times  to  see  him  clearly 
against ;  for  this,  his  own  writings,  so  admirably  edited 
by  Mr.  Worthington  Chauncey  Ford  in  fourteen  volumes, 
are  the  material.  My  other  authorities  are  noted  in  a 
table  at  the  end.  Certain  anecdotes,  not  before  given 
to  the  public,  are  due  to  the  kindness  of  friends  and  to 
some  privately  published  memoirs.  Many  things  that 
must  have  been  in  his  letters  to  his  wife,  discreetly  de 
stroyed,  we  shall  never  know. 

Philadelphia,  October  20, 


Vll 


CONTENTS 


I.  ANCESTRY 

II.  THE  BOY 

III.  THE  YOUNG  MAN 

IV.  THE  MARRIED  MAN 
V.  THE  COMMANDER 

VI.  THE  PRESIDENT 

VII.  IMMORTALITY 


XI 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


List  of 

Illustrations 


HOUDON'S  STATUE  OF  WASHINGTON,  AT  RICHMOND,  VA. 

SULGRAVE  MANOR  HOUSE.      The  Ancestral  Home  of  the 
Washingtons 

SUPPOSED  PORTRAIT  OF  MARY  WASHINGTON 

GEORGE  WASHINGTON.     From  a  portrait  by  C.  W.  Peale 

MOUNT  VERNON,   RESIDENCE  OF  WASHINGTON 

MARTHA  WASHINGTON.       From    a    painting   by    Gilbert 
Stuart 

WASHINGTON  AND  LAFAYETTE  AT  VALLEY  FORGE 

PORTRAIT  OF  WASHINGTON  BY  SAVAGE,    1789—1790 
Reproduced  by  the  courtesy  of  Harvard  University 

WASHINGTON  MONUMENT 


THE  SEVEN  AGES  OF  WASHINGTON 

ON  the  22d  of  February,  1792,  Congress  Seven 
was  sitting  in  Philadelphia,  and  to  many  ^* if 
came  the  impulse  to  congratulate  the  Pres 
ident  upon  this,  his  sixty-first  birthday; 
therefore  a  motion  was  made  to  adjourn 
for  half  an  hour,  that  this  civility  might  be 
paid.  The  motion  was  bitterly  opposed, 
as  smacking  of  idolatry  and  as  leaning  tow 
ard  monarchy.  Then  it  was  the  eighteenth 
century,  it  is  the  twentieth  now;  but  when 
the  22d  of  February  comes,  the  United 
States  of  America  adjourn  for  a  day  to 
honor  the  memory  of  George  Washington. 

At  the  present  time  it  is  odd  to  recognize 
that  what  did  come  to  suffer  by  the  idolatry 
so  much  feared  by  Congress,  was  not  our 
republic,  but  the  natural,  manly,  and  human 
character  of  Washington  in  the  hands  of 
I 


Seven  his  '  early   'biographers'."    What    was    done, 

for  instance,  to  his  letters  in  the  generation 

Washington 

of  our  grandfathers,  we  grandsons  would 
refuse  to  believe,  were  we  merely  told  such  a 
story;  but  to-day  we  can  look  at  the  original 
letters  with  our  own  eyes,  and  see  the  strange 
tricks  that  were  played  with  them  by  their 
first  editor. 

Washington  wrote:  "Our  rascally  priva- 
teersmen  go  on  at  the  old  rate;"  "rascally" 
was  taken  out  in  the  printing  as  a  word 
indecorous  for  the  father  of  his  country  to 
be  seen  using. 

In  another  place:  "Such  a  dearth  of 
spirit  pray  God  I  may  never  witness  again," 
becomes,  "Such  a  dearth  of  spirit  pray  God's 
mercy  I  may  never  witness  again." 

In  still  a  third  (the  subject  is  a  contem 
plated  appropriation):  "One  hundred  thou 
sand  dollars  will  be  but  a  flea-bite,"  is  changed 
to,  "one  hundred  thousand  dollars  will  be 
totally  inadequate." 

2 


By  such   devices  was   a  frozen  image  of  Seven 

George  Washington  held  up  for  Americans    2",J 

Washington 

to  admire,  rigid  with  congealed  virtue, 
ungenial,  unreal,  to  whom  from  our  school 
days  up  we  have  been  paying  a  sincere  and 
respectful  regard,  but  a  regard  without 
interest,  sympathy,  heart  —  or  indeed,  be 
lief.  It  thrills  a  true  American  to  the  marrow  * 
to  learn  at  last  that  this  far-off  figure,  this 
George  Washington,  this  man  of  patriotic 
splendor,  the  captain  and  savior  of  our 
Revolution,  the  self-sacrificing,  devoted  Pres 
ident,  was  a  man  also  with  a  hearty  laugh, 
with  a  love  of  the  theatre,  with  a  white-hot 
temper,  who  when  roused  could  (for  ex 
ample)  declare  of  Edmund  Randolph:  "A 
damneder  scoundrel  God  Almighty  never 
permitted  to  disgrace  humanity." 

The  unfreezing  of  Washington  was  begun 
by  Irving,  but  was  in  that  day  a  venture  so 
new  and  startling  that  Irving,  gentleman 
and  scholar,  went  at  it  gingerly  and  with 

3 


Seven  many    inferential    deprecations.     His    hand, 

however,  first  broke  the  ice,  and  to-day  we 

Washington 

can  see  the  live  and  human  Washington, 
full  length.  He  does  not  lose  an  inch 
by  it,  and  we  gain  a  progenitor  of  flesh 
and  blood. 

Between  all  great  men  there  is  one  signal 
family  likeness;  so  much  is  in  them,  such 
volume  and  variety,  that  by  choosing  this 
and  leaving  out  that,  portraits  almost  con 
flicting  could  be  made  of  the  same  character, 
each  based  wholly  upon  fact,  yet  not  all  the 
facts,  and  so  a  false  picture  of  the  man. 
From  Julius  Caesar  could  be  drawn  a  prof 
ligate  and  fashionable  idler,  rather  vain  of 
the  verses  which  it  was  his  desultory  pleasure 
to  compose.  Out  of  Napoleon  could  be 
made  a  beneficent  law-giver,  warmly  con 
cerned  with  questions  of  education.  To 
read  the  several  journals  that  Washington 
wrote  at  Mount  Vernon,  you  would  scarce 
guess  that  public  life  engaged  a  moment  of 
4 


his  thought,  or  that  he  had  ever  seen  a  day's  Seven 


fighting.  The  hints  of  greatness  in  those  J^, 
pages  are  a  huge  energy,  and  a  grasp  of 
detail,  a  memory  and  attention  for  the  small 
est  as  well  as  the  largest  things,  that  leave 
one  silent  with  wonder.  But  no  direct  sign 
of  the  soldier  or  statesman  is  there;  the 
writer  is  apparently  a  breeder  of  horses, 
dogs,  and  sheep,  a  planter  of  trees  and  crops, 
generous  to  his  relations  and  relations-in- 
law,  with  his  slaves  both  humane  and  strict, 
most  strict  in  his  business  duties  to  others, 
and  in  their  business  duties  to  him.  He  is 
also  a  constant  sportsman,  fox-hunter,  and 
host,  who  is  pleased  to  bid  many  welcome  at 
his  table,  but  dearly  likes  chosen  friends  to 
come  in;  and  with  these  he  takes  a  more 
familiar  glass  of  Madeira.  To  the  matter  of 
wine  he  gives  the  same  measured,  minute 
attention  that  he  gives  to  his  fields,  his 
horses,  his  rams,  and  all  else.  Twice  he 
writes  explicit  directions  about  it,  the  second 
5 


Seven  being  as  follows,  in  1794,  when  his  duties  as 

President   keep  him   absent  from   home:  — 

Washington 

"In  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Fanny  Washington 
.  .  .  she  mentions,  that  since  I  left  Mount 
Vernon  she  has  given  out  four  dozen  and 
eight  bottles  of  wine  ...  I  am  led  by  it  to 
observe,  that  it  is  not  my  intention  that  it 
should  be  given  to  every  one  who  may 
incline  to  make  a  convenience  of  the  house  in 
travelling,  or  who  may  be  induced  to  visit  it 
from  motives  of  curiosity.  There  are  but 
three  descriptions  of  people  to  whom  I  think 
it  ought  to  be  given:  first,  my  particular 
and  intimate  acquaintance,  in  case  business 
should  call  them  there,  such  for  instance  as 
Doctor  Craik,  2dly,  some  of  the  most  re 
spectable  foreigners  who  may,  perchance, 
be  in  Alexandria  or  the  federal  city;  and 
be  either  brought  down,  or  introduced  by 
letter,  from  some  of  my  particular  acquaint 
ance  as  before  mentioned;  or  thirdly,  to 
persons  of  some  distinction  (such  as  mem- 
6 


bers  of  Congress,  &c.)  who  may  be  travelling  Seven 
through  the  country  from  North  to  South,  or  J^/ 
from  South  to  North  .  .  .  Unless  some  cau 
tion  of  this  sort  governs,  I  should  be  run  to 
an  expense  as  improper  as  it  would  be  con 
siderable; —  for  the  duty  upon  Madeira 
wine  makes  it  one  of  the  most  expensive 
liquors  that  is  now  used,  while  my  stock  of 
it  is  small,  and  old  wine  (of  which  that  is) 
is  not  to  be  had  upon  any  terms :  for  which 
reason,  and  for  the  limited  purposes  already 
mentioned,  I  had  rather  you  would  provide 
claret,  or  other  wine  on  which  the  duty  is 
not  so  high,  than  to  use  my  Madeira,  unless 
it  be  on  very  extraordinary  occasions.  I 
have  no  objection  to  any  sober,  or  orderly 
person's  gratifying  their  curiosity  in  viewing 
the  buildings,  gardens,  &c.,  about  Mt. 
Vernon;  but  it  is  only  to  such  persons  as  I 
have  described  that  I  ought  to  be  run  to  any 
expense  on  account  of  these  visits  of  curiosity, 
beyond  common  civility  and  hospitality. 

7 


Seven  No  gentleman  who  has  a  proper  respect  for 

his  own  character   (except  relations  and  in- 

Washington 

timates)  would  use  the  house  in  my  absence 
for  the  sake  of  conveniency.  .  .  ." 

Such  orders  are  given  about  every  item  of 
his  domestic  and  agricultural  establishment, 
and  this  all  through  a  period  when  his  mind 
was  deep  in  public  matters  of  a  most  vexing 
and  delicate  kind,  both  at  home  and  abroad; 
when  he  was  writing  long  letters  to  Hamilton, 
to  Jay,  to  Adams,  to  Congress,  about  our 
threatened  relations  with  England,  and  the 
Pennsylvania  Whiskey  Rebellion.  Nor  were 
these  letters  dictated  —  they  were  in  addition 
to  those  dictated;  nor  yet  were  they  thin  or 
of  hasty  judgment;  they  were  as  thorough  as 
what  he  writes  about  his  wine;  and  this 
radiation  of  energy  and  sagacity  began  with 
him  before  he  was  twenty,  and  continued 
during  some  forty-seven  years  until  his 
death.  Not  seldom,  in  reading  Washing 
ton's  correspondence,  one  pauses  simply  to 
8 


dwell   upon   the   marvel  of  how  such  power  Seven 


for   work    ever   got    itself  into    one    human  ^ 

Washington 

body.  He  judged  himself  well  (his  judg 
ment  was  seldom  wrong  about  anything) 
when  in  early  life  he  wrote  Governor  Din- 
widdie :  "  I  have  a  constitution  hardy  enough 
to  encounter  and  undergo  the  most  severe 
trials,  and  I  flatter  myself  resolution  to  face 
what  any  man  dares." 

With  the  many  documents  now  come  to 
light  and  a  proper  study  and  use  of  these, 
there  could  be  readily  made  (if  but  words 
were  painters'  brushes  and  facts  were  colors) 
a  gallery  of  portraits,  each  of  Washington, 
and  all  faithful  likenesses.  His  schoolboy 
face  might  then  be  seen,  and  how  he  looked 
in  adolescence,  when  he  was  surveying  for 
Lord  Fairfax,  and  between  whiles  making 
love  so  precocious,  continued,  and  apparently 
barren  of  reward.  That  older  face  which 
Stuart  has  given  us,  weather-beaten,  war- 
beaten,  deeply  toned  with  retrospect,  tells 
9 


Seven  not  of  those  far  early  Virginia  days.     And 

*"  trUtn>  tO  SUm  UP  a  man  as  ne  enc^s>  or  as 
he  begins,  or  at  any  single  hour  of  his  life, 

is  to  present  but  a  fragment  of  him;  for  he 
is  ceasing  to  be  some  things,  while  he  is  be 
ginning  to  be  other  things;  and  it  is  all  a 
ceasing,  and  a  beginning,  and  an  overlapping. 
Who  could  tell  in  August  what  the  fruit  tree 
was  in  May  ? 

In  the  October  of  his  days,  Washington 
writes  from  Mt.  Vernon:  "The  more  I  am 
acquainted  with  agricultural  affairs,  the 
better  I  am  pleased  with  them."  And  in 
the  November  of  his  days:  "To  make  and 
sell  a  little  flour  .  .  .  and  to  amuse  myself 
in  ...  rural  pursuits,  will  constitute  my 
employment  ...  If  also  I  could  now  and 
then  meet  the  friends  I  esteem,  it  would  fill 
the  measure  .  .  .  ."  Thus  the  Autumnal 
Washington;  but  when  he  was  only  April- 
old,  he  wrote:  "My  feelings  are  strongly 
bent  to  arms."  And  again:  "I  heard  the 
10 


bullets    whistle,    and,    believe    me,    there    is  Seven 

something     charming     in     the     sound/'     In 

Washington 

later  years,  he  remarked,  "If  I  said  so,  it 
was  when  I  was  young."  The  man  himself 
had  forgotten  an  earlier  aspect  of  himself. 
Little,  then,  shall  others  understand  of  him 
who  know  only  Washington  the  General, 
or  Washington  the  President. 

Life  plants  no  new  seeds  in  a  man,  but  the 
sun  and  the  snow  of  the  years  both  quicken 
and  kill  what  seeds  were  in  him  at  his  birth, 
and  thus  the  main  trunk  of  character  slowly 
grows.  No  more  than  Rome  was  the  Com- 
mander-in-Chief  of  our  Revolution  built  in  a 
day;  to  stand  that  strain  required  beams  and 
rafters  of  long  seasoning,  and  if  ever  a  char 
acter  got  long  seasoning,  it  was  George  Wash 
ington's.  To  survey  his  sixty-seven  years, 
it  seems  as  if  so  much  had  never  happened 
to  any  other  man;  certainly  no  American's 
life  has  been  more  crowded  with  extreme 
events  —  action  and  reflection  galloping 
II 


Seven  abreast  through  cities  and  wildernesses,  bat 

tles    and    councils,    dealing    with    a    motley 

Washington  J 

throng  of  foreign  noblemen,  native  neigh 
bors,  wrangling  statesmen,  starving  soldiers, 
Indian  chiefs,  and  negro  slaves. 

"If  I  said  that  bullets  had  a  charming 
sound,  it  was  when  I  was  young."  Yes, 
when  he  was  young;  before  the  pitiful 
slaughter  at  Long  Island,  where  he  wrung  his 
hands,  saying,  "Good  God,  what  brave 
fellows  I  must  this  day  lose;"  and  before 
he  had  learned  to  love  the  sound  of  the  wind 
in  his  trees  at  Mount  Vernon  —  in  short  be 
fore  the  sun  and  snow  had  much  beaten  upon 
him,  and  while  the  beams  and  rafters  were  still 
unseasoned.  Therefore,  to  draw  as  near 
him  as  we  may  across  Time's  wide  silence, 
let  our  eyes  travel  back  through  the  battles 
and  councils,  the  foreign  noblemen  and 
starving  soldiers,  to  his  beginning. 


12 


I.   ANCESTRY 


SULGRAVE   MANOR   HOUSE 
The  Ancestral  Home  of  the  Wtfshingtons 


33UOH   flOMAM   3VAflOJUci 

sti)  to  smoH  I^uasonA  sriT 


WHEN  we  look  among  George  Washing-  Seven 

ton's  forefathers — which  somewhat  late  re-    T/r/r   L. 

Washington 

search  has  made  easy,  though  it  has  not 
cleared  every  point  —  we  see  that  he  was 
like  them,  carried  on  their  deeds  and  natures 
in  himself,  was  less  a  surprise  and  departure 
in  the  family  type  than  many  a  famous  man 
has  been;  and  this  because  his  greatness  lay 
in  character.  It  is  when  genius  steps  in  to 
procreation  that  the  bird  is  of  unaccountable 
feather,  as  in  the  case  of  Shakespeare.  But 
w«  find  Washington  plain  enough  in  his 
English  ancestors.  He  came  of  good  blood, 
county  blood,  blood  that  had  fought  and 
flowed  for  its  king,  had  preached  for  its 
king,  had  been  to  college,  that,  in  short, 
kn^.w  something  of  wars  and  something  of 
books;  that  was  allied  with  other  good  blood 

'5 


Seven  of  England,   not   the   greatest,   nor  yet   the 

least;    that  bore  a  coat-of-arms,  which,  un- 

Washington 

translated  from  its  quaint  language,  reads 
thus :  Argent,  two  bars  and  in  chief  three 
mullets  Gules.  And  among  those  who  graced 
this  coat-of-arms  we  find  soldiers,  knighted 
for  gallantry  in  battle,  and  a  preacher,  who 
for  sticking  to  his  principles  got  into  much 
trouble  with  the  Roundheads. 

So  there  stand  the  ancestors:  some  with 
swords  and  some  in  gowns ;  behind  them,  the 
fields  of  England  with  battle  smoke  and  fair 
towers,  and  the  painted  shields  of  heraldry. 

Such  was  the  boy's  ancestral  stuff,  from 
such  loins  did  he  spring,  through  an  emi 
grant  great-grandfather  known  in  Virginia  as 
Colonel  John  Washington,  a  public  man,  a 
man  of  circumstance.  His  seed  did  not  fall 
away;  the  family  held  its  high  position,  so 
that  seventy-six  years  after  the  emigrant's 
coming,  came  his  great-grandson  George  into 
a  world  where  an  established  place,  a  re- 
16 


spected  name,  and  important  friends  were  his  Seven 

inheritance  at  birth.     With  him,  a  good  en-     *   , . 

Washington 

vironment  took  up  and  fostered  a  good 
heredity:  the  happiest  condition  that  can 
befall  a  new-born  creature.  Once  on  his 
legs,  and  his  own  master,  the  boy  made 
himself  worthy  of  his  advantages,  and  coming 
from  something,  became  more, —  unlike  much 
present-day  American  youth,  who,  coming 
from  something,  are  nothing.  But  let  us 
carefully  remember  that  George  Washington's 
advantages  were  no  disadvantage  to  him;  it 
is  not  ill  to  dwell  on  this.  There  is  no  harm 
in  going  from  the  tow-path  to  the  White 
House;  the  point  is,  what  you  do  when  you 
get  there.  Spread-eagle  eloquence  is  apt  to 
proclaim  somewhat  lopsided  generalizations 
on  this  head,  as  if  obscurity  and  poverty  were 
virtues  in  themselves,  and  good  descent  and 
good  up-bringing  were  crimes.  There  is 
nothing  in  all  that,  save  hurtful  imbecility; 
the  truth  being,  that  it  is  not  bad  to  come 


Seven  from  silk  purses  unless  you  turn  out  a  sow's 

w'LkLgttn  ear  y°urself>  nor  7et  bad  to  come  from  sow's 
ears  if  you  turn  into  a  silk  purse  yourself; 
but  it  would  be  a  pity  if  the  sow's  ear  be 
came  the  symbol  of  our  Republic. 

Let  it  be  once  more  said  (for  it  is  of  great 
interest,  and  has  been  by  historians  and 
biographers  but  scantily  dwelt  upon)  that 
Washington  was  no  meteoric  phenomenon 
falling  into  a  family  unheralded  from  the  sky, 
but  very  much  the  reverse,  a  consistent  con 
tinuance  of  the  family  pattern,  precisely  the 
kind  of  crop  (only  greater  in  size)  to  be 
expected  from  former  harvests;  soldiers 
who  are  knighted  for  valor,  preachers  who 
stick  to  their  principles,  come  what  may,  — 
are  not  such  precedents  the  very  elements 
and  fibre  of  George  Washington  ?  He  was 
their  obvious,  proper  child,  moulded  large 
at  birth;  and  into  his  strong  grasp  was  put  a 
great  opportunity.  In  this  coincidence  lies 
the  simple  explanation  of  the  man. 
18 


II.   THE   BOY 


SUPPOSED  PORTRAIT  OF  MARY  WASHINGTON 


HOTOMIH2AW  YflAM  HO 


II 

IN  1657  began  the  American  Washingtons,  Seven 
when  two  brothers,  John  and  Lawrence,  came  ^ashin  ton 
to  Virginia  and  established  themselves  be 
tween  the  Potomac  and  Rappahannock  riv 
ers,  by  Pope's  creek.  John  became  Colonel 
John  in  wars  against  the  Indians,  as,  through 
similar  wars  in  his  turn,  did  his  great-grand 
son  George  become  Colonel  George.  In  1694 
was  born  Augustine  Washington,  who  be 
came  Captain  Augustine,  and  was  twice 
married.  To  him  by  his  second  venture 
(as  he  styles  Mary  Ball  in  his  will)  was  born 
George  at  the  family  homestead  in  West 
moreland  county,  on  February  n,  1731, 
O.  S.,  or  February  22,  1732,  by  our  present 
calendar.  The  child's  earliest  associations, 
however,  were  not  here,  but  with  the  spot  of 
21 


Seven  his    dearest    and    latest;     for    his    parents, 

Washin  ton  ^e^ore  ^e  could  form  memories,  had  gone  to 
live  at  their  farm  on  the  Potomac.  Some 
ten  years  later  the  house,  as  we  partly  know 
it  to-day,  was  built  by  George's  elder  half- 
brother  Lawrence,  whose  inheritance  it  was, 
and  who  named  it  Mount  Vernon  from 
Admiral  Vernon,  with  whom  he  had  served 
as  an  officer  at  Carthagena.  When  the  boy 
was  eleven,  Augustine  his  father  died,  and 
he  went  back  to  his  birthplace,  "Wake- 
field,"  where  he  lived  with  his  half-brother 
Augustine  until  he  was  thirteen,  going  then 
to  live  with  his  mother  near  Fredericks- 
burg.  In  these  young  days,  when  he  and 
his  mother  lived  in  straitened  circumstances 
(the  bulk  of  the  estate  being  left  to  his  half- 
brothers),  Mary  Washington  seems  to  have 
been  a  very  admirable,  if  not  intellectual, 
parent  for  her  son,  beginning  well  the  training 
of  his  character.  In  later  days,  her  change 
of  disposition  and  her  conduct  regarding 
22 


money  caused  him    pain    and  mortification.   Seven 

In  certain  of  his  letters  to  her,  always  be-    -£",. 

Washington 

ginning  "Honored  Madam "  according  to  the 
custom  of  their  time,  the  language  contains 
(and  not  wholly  conceals)  the  struggle  be 
tween  the  man's  displeasure  and  the  son's 
natural  respect  and  affection.  Some  of  their 
paragraphs  make  distressing  reading,  and 
we  turn  away,  leaving  them  unquoted. 

No  more  than  about  the  boy's  ancestors 
need  we  make  any  guesses  about  the  boy. 
Though  myths  of  which  he  is  the  hero  are 
plentiful,  and  facts  are  few,  these  facts  are 
strong  in  vividness  and  go  far  to  drawing 
a  distinct  picture  of  him,  and  to  giving  it 
definite  color  as  well.  We  had  best  not 
make  too  much,  separately,  of  the  rather 
uncertain  legends  concerning  his  deeds  of 
strength,  his  taming  of  wild  colts,  his  long 
throws,  his  high  climbs;  he  was  evidently 
well  muscled  from  the  first  —  though  some 
what  lank  and  hollow  chested,  and  with  no 
23 


Seven  ruddiness   of  face  —  and    the   value   of  the 

ton  ^eSen<^s  *s  not  dieir  individual  authenticity, 
but  their  united  testimony.  Inappropriate 
anecdotes  about  anybody  never  survive:  a 
saying  attributed  to  Franklin  will  be  canny, 
not  dull;  a  story  attributed  to  Lincoln  will 
be  humorous,  not  stupid;  and  it  is  sure  that 
Washington  as  a  boy  possessed  a  body  strong 
and  energetic  beyond  the  common,  and  that 
he  gave  much  attention  to  its  exercise. 

In  children's  games  he  seems  to  have 
shared  like  any  other  child,  and  that  he 
played  soldier  and  marshalled  and  drilled 
his  playmates  need  scarce  be  counted  a 
prophetic  sign,  even  though  it  was  he  who 
mostly  took  the  part  of  commander.  He  had 
seen  his  half-brother  Lawrence  making  ready 
for  real  wars;  to  imitate  was  inevitable,  and 
military  sports  have  been  frequent  among 
generations  of  children  who  never  came  to 
fame  either  as  soldiers  or  civilians.  If  we 
are  looking  for  portents  thus  early,  there  is 
24 


something  more  in  the  fact  that  a  few  years  Seven 


later,  at  the  school  in  Fredericksburg,  when    ?***,: 

Washington 

the  boy  had  become  perhaps  fourteen  or  > 
fifteen,  his  schoolmates  would  come  in  from 
the  playground  with  disputes  for  him  to 
settle.  They  made  the  studious  boy,  solitary 
with  his  tasks  indoors,  their  habitual  umpire. 
In  such  a  boy  we  may  warrantably  see  the 
father  of  the  man  who  fifty  years  later  was 
often  umpire  between  two  members  of  his 
cabinet,  and  once  wrote:  "I  have  a  great,  a 
sincere  regard  and  esteem  for  you  both  :  and 
ardently  wish  that  some  line  could  be  worked 
out  by  which  both  of  you  should  walk." 

But  why  had  the  boy  with  the  strong,  - 
well-exercised  body  become  solitary  indoors 
at  this  time  ?  His  growing  character  might 
possibly  have  kept  him  apart,  but  not  in 
doors,  and  there  is  another  reason  which  dis 
penses  with  surmise.  The  means  left  his 
mother  and  her  family  of  five  living  children 
was  slender,  and  upon  the  young  shoulders 

25 


Seven  of  George,  the  eldest,  had  already  fallen  their 

burden  of  providing  for  himself  and  for  them. 

Washington 

One  advantage  common  in  that  day  to  the 
sons  of  well-to-do  Virginians  did  not  fall  to 
him,  the  eldest  of  the  second  family,  but  to 
his  half-brother  Lawrence,  the  eldest  of  the 
first  marriage.  Lawrence  was  sent  to  "finish 
his  education"  in  England,  but  George  had 
to  renounce  the  luxury  of  "finishing"  even 
at  home,  at  William  and  Mary  College,  and  _ 
to  make  ready  by  the  readiest  means  to  be 
come  the  support  of  his  mother  and  her 
children.  Hence  the  indoor  study,  hence 
the  solitude,  both  so  marked  as  to  have 
made  an  impression  handed  down  by  his 
schoolmate,  Lewis  Willis.  In  the  manu 
script  of  this  gentleman's  son,  Colonel  Byrd 
Willis,  is  the  following  passage  about  Wash 
ington  :  "  My  father  .  .  .  spoke  of  the  Gen 
eral's  industry  and  assiduity  at  school  as 
very  remarkable.  Whilst  his  brother  and 
other  boys  at  playtime  were  at  bandy  and 

26 


other  games,  he  was  behind  the  door  cipher-  Seven 

ins;.     But  one  youthful  ebullition  is  handed    J^  , 

trashing  ton 

down  while  at  that  school,  and  that  was 
romping  with  one  of  the  largest  girls;  this 
was  so  unusual  that  it  excited  no  little  com 
ment  among  the  other  lads." 

And  now,  since  portents  when  they  are  real 
are  of  the  deepest  significance,  we  do  indeed 
come  upon  something  worth  more  than  a 
passing  mention.  To  the  boy  making  ready 
to  support  his  mother,  and  denied  the  "finish 
ing"  of  college  at  home  or  travel  in  England, 
fell  a  timely  piece  of  good  fortune :  he  re 
ceived  the  "  finishing "  from  an  unexpected 
quarter;  he  came  under  the  influence  of  a 
civilization  more  finely  civilized  than  Eng 
land's,  more  courteous,  more  restrained  than 
eighteenth-century  England  knew. 

To  any  one  familiar  with  Washington  manu 
scripts,  that  earliest,  the  school  copy-book  of 
1745,  is  well  known.  In  spite  of  its  some 
what  damaged  state,  it  reveals  faithfully  and 

27 


Seven  fully  that   steadfast  indoor  ciphering  which 

Washin  ton  was  tO  PrePare  ^m  ^or  supporting  his  mother. 
The  various  formal  documents  of  business 
and  book-keeping  appear  there,  copied  slowly 
in  his  boyish  hand  for  the  sake  of  securely 
mastering  them,  and  here  and  there  amid 
these  careful  transcriptions,  a  few  scrawled 
pictures  of  those  he  sat  in  school  with,  and 
of  birds  of  uncertain  species.  But  even  this 
evidence  of  whence  began  that  habit  and 
extraordinary  power  of  method  in  practical 
affairs,  which  later  served  his  country  and 
himself  so  well,  —  even  this  is  of  secondary 
interest  to  the  no  rules  of  civility,  also  to  be 
seen  in  this  copy-book  of  1745,  written  with 
more  signs  of  haste  than  the  transcribed 
bonds  and  receipts,  as  if  from  dictation. 
With  these  rules  the  boy's  strong-built, 
rough,  and  passionate  nature  was  deeply 
instilled  before  he  stepped  forth  upon  his 
adventurous  journey  in  the  world.  The  part 
they  played  in  his  life  —  since  his  public  and 
28 


private  acts  show  their  spirit  and  teaching  Seven 

at  every  turn — was  of  the  first  importance,    r?" ,. 

'  Washington 

not  to  him  alone,  but  also  to  his  country. 
Moncure  D.  Conway,  who  has  traced  delight 
fully  and  admirably  the  French  origin  and  re 
markable  history  of  these  rules,  says  regarding 
their  influence  upon  Washington's  character: 
"In  the  hand  of  that  man  of  strong  brain 
and  powerful  passions  once  lay  the  destiny 
of  the  New  World,  —  in  a  sense,  human 
destiny.  But  for  his  possession  of  the  humil 
ity  and  self-discipline  underlying  his  Rules 
of  Civility,  the  ambitious  politicians  of  the 
United  States  might  to-day  be  popularly 
held  to  a  much  lower  standard."  And  to 
this  it  should  be  added,  that  from  these 
rules  and  their  moulding  of  Washington's 
character  flowed  his  power  of  address 
—  the  consideration  and  the  simplicity — 
which  won  for  him,  as  it  won  for  no  other  of 
his  time,  the  esteem  and  devotion  of  those 
who  could  help  our  Revolution  in  the  direst 
29 


Seven  hours  of  its  need.     It  is    scarce  worth  ob 

serving  that  the  coincidence  of  good  seed  and 

Washington 

good  soil  is  always  necessary,  and  that  if 
Washington's  character  had  not  been  the 
field,  the  rules  would  have  been  less  fruitful. 
But  it  is  well  worth  observing  that  they 
produced  some  fruit  in  two  fairly  barren 
characters :  Madison  and  Monroe  were  also 
taught  their  good  manners,  and  almost 
certainly  by  these  same  rules,  at  the  Fred- 
ericksburg  school,  and  Madison  and  Monroe, 
when  examined  close,  have  little  to  show  but 
their  courtesy,  both  being  models  equally  of 
urbanity  and  incompetence. 

It  was  once  supposed  that  Washington 
was  himself  the  boy  author  of  these  rules; 
but  they  date  from  1595  and  before  his  day 
had  known  several  translations,  imitations, 
and  plagiarisms,  among  which  was  an  English 
version  of  1640  entitled,  "Youth's  Behaviour, 
or  Decency  in  Conversation  amongst  men. 
Composed  in  French  by  grave  persons  for 

30 


the  Use   and   benefit  of  their  youth.     Now  Seven 


newly    translated    into    English    by    Francis    J^V 

J  J  Washington 

Hawkins/'  It  is  possible,  as  Mr.  Conway 
shows,  that  what  we  find  in  the  copy-book  of 
1745  was  the  result  of  Washington's  reading 
and  amending  Hawkins  by  himself.  But 
the  amendments  seem  too  skilful  for  the  boy  of 
fourteen,  and  Mr.  Conway's  own  theory  seems 
almost  a  proven  case.  In  1729  there  sailed 
to  Virginia  with  his  bride  the  Rev.  James 
Marye.  This  gentleman  had  been  educated 
for  the  priesthood,  and  thus  must  inevitably 
have  met  the  rules,  which  were  a  manual 
among  the  religious  colleges  of  France.  But 
he  became  a  Huguenot,  and  hence  an  emi 
grant,  settling  at  first  in  King  William  Par 
ish.  In  1735  he  was  called  to  St.  George's, 
Fredericksburg,  where  he  set  up  a  school, 
created  a  large  congregation,  and  died  in 
1767.  To  his  school  went  many  eminent 
Virginians,  besides  those  already  named, 
and  the  good  manners  of  several  generations 

31 


Seven  of  boys  brought  James  Marye  and  his  school 

into    high    respect    and    reputation,    for  he 

Washington 

taught  civility  as  a  branch  of  education,  as 
he  taught  arithmetic.  As  the  rules  in  the 
copy-book  show  a  correspondence  with  Haw 
kins  sometimes,  but  more  often  with  the 
original  French,  and  as  Washington's  hand 
writing  here  gives  signs  of  haste  and  correction 
that  do  not  elsewhere  appear,  it  points  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  maxims  were  dictated 
to  his  boys  by  James  Marye,  who  availed 
himself,  now  of  Hawkins,  and  again  (and 
more  often)  of  the  original  treatise  that 
emanated  from  the  pensionnaires  of  the 
College  of  La  Fleche  in  1595,  with  the  title 
Bienseance  de  la  Conversation  entre  les 
Hommes.  Let  us  remember  with  gratitude 
and  regard  the  Huguenot  emigrant,  an  exile 
because  of  his  high  principles,  who  brought 
these  principles  to  benefit  our  shores,  and 
became  the  founder  of  an  honorable  family, 
and  the  wise  teacher  of  American  youth. 
32 


For  the  interest  of  it,  we  cite  three  parallel  Seven 

versions  of  one  of  these  maxims: —  Ses  °J 

Washingtc 

Washington's  copy-book, 20th Rule.  "The 
Gestures  of  the  Body  must  be  Suited  to  the 
discourse  you  are  upon." 

Hawkins  i.  30.  "Let  the  gestures  of  the 
body  be  agreeable  to  the  matter  of  thy  dis 
course.  For  it  hath  been  ever  held  a  sol- 
cesime  in  oratory,  to  poynt  to  the  Earth, 
when  thou  talkest  of  Heaven." 

Original  French.  "  Parmy  les  discours 
regardez  a  mettre  vostre  corps  en  belle 
posture." 

Were  there  space  here  for  all  the  maxims 
they  should  be  given,  so  quaint  are  they  in 
phrase,  so  sound  in  foundation,  resting  upon 
the  deep  moral  principle  of  consideration 
for  others,  and  many  of  them  applicable  with 
out  change  to  modern  requirements.  But 
fragments  of  them  must  suffice: — 

33 


Seven  "  Be  not  immodest  in  urging  your  Friends 

to  discover  a  secret." 

Washington 

"Wear  not  your  Cloths  foul,  unript,  or 
dusty." 

"Sleep  not  when  others  Speak,  Sit  not  when 
others  stand,  Speak  not  when  you  should 
hold  your  Peace,  walk  not  when  others  Stop." 

"Superfluous  Complements  and  all  Affec 
tation  of  Ceremony  are  to  be  avoided,  yet 
where  due  they  are  not  to  be  Neglected." 

"Read  no  Letters,  Books,  or  Papers  in 
Company  but  when  there  is  a  Necessity  for 
the  doing  of  it  you  must  ask  leave :  come 
not  near  the  Books  or  Writings  of  Another 
so  as  to  read  them  unless  desired  .  .  .  look 
not  nigh  when  another  is  writing  a  Letter." 

"Speak  not  of  doleful  things  in  a  time  of 
mirth." 

"Talk  not  with  meat  in  your  mouth." 

"Labour  to  keep  alive  in  your  breast  that 
little  Spark  of  Celestial  fire  called  Con 


science." 


34 


Such  were  the  precepts   that  Washington  Seven 

copied  as  a  boy  of  fourteen,  and  they  entered    Tj*s '  £ 

J  J  Washington 

like  leaven  into  that  young  lump  of  strength. 
"Your  future  character  and  reputation 
[he  writes,  forty-three  years  afterward  to  a 
nephew]  will  depend  very  much,  if  not  entirely, 
upon  the  habits  and  manners  which  you 
contract  in  the  present  period  of  your  life." 
These  words  are  not  the  facile  commonplaces 
of  an  elderly  man  moralizing  to  a  youth ;  they 
indicate  that  Washington  was  entirely  aware 
of  the  great  influence  for  good  exerted  upon 
his  own  character  by  the  Rules  of  Civility. 
It  is  a  misfortune  for  all  American  boys  in  all 
our  schools  to-day,  that  they  should  be  told 
the  untrue  and  foolish  story  of  the  hatchet 
and  cherry  tree,  and  denied  the  immense 
benefit  of  instruction  from  George  Washing 
ton's  authentic  copy-book. 

Ornamental  knowledge  he  had  no  op 
portunity  for  (with  life's  necessities  pressing 
him  so  near),  and  very  likely  he  showed  small 

35 


Seven  leaning  to  it.     It  is  plain  that  his    business 

bent  was   already  strong  in  him.   and  that 

Washington 

beyond  the  necessity,  his  own  instinct  chose 
the  line  of  bonds  and  receipts,  rather  than  of 
literature  and  history.  And  yet  they  have 
been  quite  wrong  who  at  various  times  have 
asserted  that  he  was  an  ignorant  man  of  but 
small  reading.  That  he  read  for  practical 
purposes  more  than  for  entertainment  is 
undoubtedly  true,  and  that  he  held  a  very 
humble  opinion  of  his  own  taste  and  judg 
ment  in  literary  matters  is  equally  so  —  yet 
how  interesting  is  this  passage  in  a  letter 
written  to  Lafayette  in  1788  !  - 

"...  Such  are  your  Antient  Bards  who 
are  both  the  priest  and  door-keepers  to 
the  temple  of  fame.  And  these,  my  dear 
Marquis,  are  no  vulgar  functions  .  .  .  heroes 
have  made  poets,  and  poets  heroes.  Alex 
ander  the  Great  is  said  to  have  been  en 
raptured  with  the  Poems  of  Homer.  .  .  . 
Julius  Caesar  is  well  known  to  have  been  a 

36 


man  of  highly  cultivated   understanding  and  Seven 

T^I         .  A          .  A?es  of 

taste.  ...      I  he  Augustan  Age    is    prover-    rr.    . ; 

Washington 

bial  ...  in  it  the  harvest  of  laurels  and 
bays  was  wonderfully  mingled  together.  .  .  . 
The  age  of  your  Louis  the  fourteenth,  which 
produced  a  multitude  of  great  poets  and  great 
Captains,  will  never  be  forgotten;  nor  will 
that  of  Queen  Ann  ...  for  the  same  cause.  .  . . 
Perhaps  we  shall  be  found  at  this  moment, 
not  inferior  to  the  rest  of  the  world  in  the 
performances  of  our  poets  and  painters; 
notwithstanding  many  of  the  incitements  are 
wanting  which  operate  powerfully  among 
older  nations.  For  it  is  generally  under 
stood,  that  excellence  in  those  sister  Arts 
has  been  the  result  of  easy  circumstances, 
public  encouragements  and  an  advanced  stage 
of  society.  ...  I  hardly  know  how  it  is 
that  I  am  drawn  thus  far  in  observations  on 
a  subject  so  foreign  from  those  in  which 
we  are  mostly  engaged,  farming  and  poli 
tics " 

37 


Seven  It  is  not  an  ignorant  man  who  writes  thus. 

Somehow  at  sometime  during  his  life  so  full 

Washington 

of  sword  and  of  plough,  he  had  considered  the 
poets  and  heroes,  and  the  question  of  sub 
sidized  art,  although  the  scanty  glimpses 
that  he  gives  of  this  consideration  make  us, 
who  would  know  him  wholly,  regret  that  he 
was  not  more  often  "drawn  thus  far  in  ob 
servations  on  a  subject  so  foreign." 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  —  the  age  of  the 
copy-book  —  he  had  a  wish  to  enter  the  navy, 
which  his  mother  opposed,  and  he  therefore 
went  on  with  his  school  and  his  mathematics, 
which  led  him  to  the  study  of  surveying  —  a 
very  important  fact  in  his  destiny.  It  was 
probably  now,  after  his  disappointment 
about  the  navy,  that  his  home  responsibilities 
grew  clear  to  his  conscience  and  that  he 
absented  himself  from  the  playground  for 
the  sake  of  harder  study.  The  girls  used  to 
wish  that  he  would  talk  more;  "he  was  a 
very  bashful  young  man,"  is  the  recorded 

38 


opinion   of  one   of  them    in  later   life ;    yet  Seven 
some  girl  had  already  disturbed  his  dawning   5*1, . 
passion.     Presently   he   was   writing   verses, 
though  of  a  quality  scarce  equal  to  his  mathe 
matics. 

"  Oh  ye  Gods  why  should  my  Poor  resistless  Heart 

Stand  to  oppose  thy  might  and  power — • 
***** 
"  In  deluding  sleepings  let  my  eyelids  close 

That  in  an  enraptured  dream  I  may 
In  a  rapt  lulling  sleep  and  gentle  repose 
Possess  those  joys  denied  by  day." 

Other  lyrics  to  other  ladies  are  found  in  his 
early  writing,  but  maturer  passion  ended  by 
expressing  itself  in  prose. 

Such  was  the  boy:  of  vigorous  flesh,  of 
grave  spirit  rendered  graver  by  necessity,  a 
respected  umpire  of  school-ground  disputes, 
a  romantic  follower  of  the  fair  sex;  his  hair 
was  brown,  his  eye  blue  gray,  not  flashing 
but  steady,  and  he  had  a  nose  that  his  friends 
must  have  hoped  he  would  grow  up  to. 

39 


III.  THE   YOUNG  MAN 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON 
From  a  portrait  by  C.  W.  Peaie. 


.W  .0 


Seven 
Ages  of 
Washington 


in 

So  his  schooldays  ended,  and  with  them 
not  indeed  his  education,  for  this  was  just 
begun;  but  schoolmasters  and  copy-books 
were  over,  and  the  apron-string  was  broken. 
It  was  not  beneath  his  mother's  roof  any 
more,  but  at  Mount  Vernon,  with  his  brother 
Lawrence,  that  his  home  was  to  be.  Here 
he  was  to  turn  his  studies  in  surveying  to  prac 
tical  account,  and  to  practical  account  also 
the  rules  of  civility.  The  working  of  these  in 
his  character  and  demeanor  brought  him  that 
next  experience,  that  next  education,  which 
may  be  set  among  the  chief  advantages  of  his 
youth.  It  would  seem  that  the  Mount  Vernon 
neighborhood  was  poor  in  gentlefolk  com 
pared  to  Fredericksburg,  and  that  the  man 
ners  and  breeding  of  this  young  Washington, 
43 


Seven  who  had  come  here  to  live,  shone  out,  and  won 

for  him  at  once  the  notice  of  an  older  man  of 

Washington 

high  position  and  noble  nature.  Lord  Fairfax 
lived  on  his  estate  adjoining  Mount  Vernon. 
Belvoir,  his  place  (pronounced  Beaver), 
could  be  seen  from  there  across  Dogue  Run, 
the  little  tributary  of  the  Potomac  so  often 
mentioned  by  Washington  in  his  diaries.  The 
boy  surveyor  —  he  was  not  yet  quite  sixteen 
—  spent  his  steady  working  hours  in  going 
about  over  his  brother  Lawrence's  lands, 
running  lines  with  admirable  pains  and 
accuracy,  and  his  holidays  he  took  in  hunting 
the  fox.N  That  he  relaxed  himself  between- 
whiles  sometimes  in  the  composition  of  verse, 
full  of  the  sighs  of  unrequited  love,  is  less 
remarkable  at  sixteen  than  the  quality  of  his 
surveyor  work.  He  fell  in  with  Lord  Fairfax 
while  surveying  as  well  as  while  hunting, 
and  the  nobleman  admired  the  energy  which 
the  lad  put  into  both  work  and  play  —  but 
it  may  very  well  be  that  what  endeared  the 
44 


young    surveyor    to     his     lordship    was    the  Seven 

gallant  manner  in  which  he  took  his  fences.    _£*rt. 

Washington 

"  Let  your  recreations  be  Manfull  not  Sinfull," 
says  Rule  109  in  the  copy-book.  And  so 
Washington's  pluck,  and  his  good,  modest 
manners,  brought  Fairfax  to  make  him  his 
frequent  companion  in  hunting  and  his  guest 
at  Belvoir,  where  there  were  well-bred  women, 
and  Addison's  essays,  and  all  was  of  a  piece 
of  the  same  sound  mellow  civilization.  In 
this  good  society  the  boy  of  sixteen  grew 
steadily  into  a  man  of  the  world  (though  of 
his  bashfulness  he  never  became  complete 
master,  and  we  shall  see  this  later  upon  sev 
eral  occasions),  and  he  also  learned  in  farming 
and  agriculture  those  standards  of  English 
thoroughness  which  he  endeavored  to  main 
tain  later  in  the  midst  of  the  American 
slackness  that  prevailed  then,  as  it  prevails 
to-day.  What  he  learned  among  the  ladies 
who  lived  or  visited  at  Belvoir  came  as  nat 
urally  to  him  and  was  retained  as  tenaciously 

45 


Seven  by  his  instinct  and  his  memory  as  the  out- 

t  ^°°r  knowleclge>  tne  planting,  harvesting, 
fencing,  gates,  hinges,  and  all  else  with  which 
Lord  Fairfax's  talk  must  have  abounded, 
while  the  older  man  and  the  young  rode  leis 
urely  across  country  together  after  a  hunt. 
Fairfax  was  bound  to  comment  upon  the 
slovenly  American  farming  that  they  passed 
by  at  such  times. 

Surely  his  lordship  gave  the  boy  a  mount 
now  and  then!  Surely  he  sometimes  said: 
"  There's  a  young  horse  at  Belvoir  you  had 
better  try  and  see  if  he  will  do  for  the  ladies." 
It  is  agreeable  to  think  of  those  huntings; 
of  the  hounds  scudding  over  Virginia's 
pleasant  hills,  and  hard  behind  them  the 
ruddy-faced  nobleman,  with  George  not 
quite  abreast  of  him  (Rule  57:  "In  walking 
.  .  .  with  ...  a  man  of  Great  quality,  walk 
not  with  him  cheek  by  jowl,  but  somewhat 
behind  him  ")  —  George  therefore  keeping 
himself  a  respectful  second,  controlling  the 

46 


sinful  desires  of  the  spirit  to  be  first  — L  and  Seven 

some    love    verses    forgotten    in    his    pocket.  ^J 

Washington 

Then  in  the  field  corners,  by  the  edges  of  the 
covers,  stopping  to  bite  a  sandwich,  surely  his 
lordship  would  bid  the  boy  come  up  for  a  pull 
at  his  own  flask,  and  surely  the  boy,  after 
a  proper  hesitation,  would  take  the  pull ! 
(Rule  40:  "Strive  not  with  your  superiors  in 
argument.")  And  so  the  two  ride  home, 
talking  together  after  the  hunt;  perhaps  the 
boy  stops  to  sup  at  Belvoir  with  Lord  Fairfax, 
or  perhaps  the  hunt  has  taken  them  to  the 
other  side  of  the  country,  and  Lord  Fairfax 
sups  and  sleeps  at  Mount  Vernon ;  and  as  he 
and  his  host,  Lawrence  Washington,  light 
their  bedroom  candles,  and  part  for  the  night, 
his  Lordship  says:  — 

"Your  brother's  a  fine  lad,  Mr.  Washing 
ton.  We  must  do  something  for  him,  Sir." 

And  the  eyes  of  the  elder  brother  fill  with 
tenderness  and  pride  at  the  remark  of  Lord 
Fairfax,  for  he  knows  it  to  be  true.  In  the 

47 


Seven  character  of  the  boy  he  had  brought  from 

5^,  Fredericksburg,  to  give  a  start  in  life  if  he 

could,  he  had  soon  discerned  a  jewel  of  great 

price,  and  his  hopes  and  his  love  were  set 

upon  him. 

Next,  Lord  Fairfax  "does  something" 
for  young  George,  makes  him  surveyor  of 
his  great  back  lands,  and  the  happy  boy  of 
sixteen  gets  on  his  horse  and  rides  forth  to 
his  career.  The  day  is  marked  in  his  diary. 
"Fryday  March  nth,  1747-8  Began  my 
Journey  in  company  with  George  Fairfax, 
Esqr. ;  we  travelled  this  day  40  miles  to  Mr. 
George  Newels  in  Prince  William  County." 

That  he  knew  these  days  for  happy  ones  is 
not  likely,  for  his  nature  was  not  the  sort 
that  sits  estimating  the  present  moment  in 
reflection,  but  rather  fills  it  with  action; 
yet  in  his  writings  the  joy  of  the  new  adven 
ture  is  plain. 

"Dear  Richard  .  .  .  Since  you  received 
my  letter  in  October  last,  I  have  not  sleep'd 


above  three  nights  or  four  in  a  bed,  but,  Seven 
after  walking  a  good  deal  all  the  day,  I  lay 
down  before  the  fire  upon  a  little  hay,  straw, 
fodder  or  bearskin  .  .  .  with  man,  wife  and 
children,  like  a  parcel  of  dogs  and  cats;  and 
happy  is  he  who  gets  the  berth  nearest  the 
fire." 

Only  the  man  that  in  his  youth  has  known 
camping,  and  the  joy  that  comes  to  him  who 
in  many  months  of  the  wilderness  has  not 
"sleep'd  above  three  nights  or  four  in  a  bed," 
can  comprehend  the  delight  of  life  which  the 
young  Washington  knew  at  this  time.  When 
in  afteryears  he  saw  these  Fairfax  days  — 
the  backwoods  surveyings  and  the  home 
comings  to  his  friend's  house  —  saw  this  in 
the  far  horizon  of  the  past,  across  the  great 
anxieties,  disasters,  and  triumphs  that  lay 
between  himself  and  his  youth,  it  is  thus  that 
we  find  him  writing:  — 

"...  None  of  which  events,  however, 
nor  all  of  them  together,  have  been  able  to 

49 


Seven  eradicate  from  my  mind  the  recollection  of 

those  happy  moments,  the  happiest  in  my 

Washington  J 

life,  which  I  have  enjoyed  in  your  company 
.  .  .  and  it  is  matter  of  sore  regret,  when  I 
cast  my  eyes  towards  Belvoir,  which  I  often 
do,  to  reflect,  the  former  inhabitants  of  it, 
with  whom  we  lived  in  such  harmony  and 
friendship,  no  longer  reside  there,  and  that 
the  ruins  can  only  be  viewed  as  the  memento 
of  former  pleasures." 

These  touching  and  revealing  words  were 
written  from  Mount  Vernon,  May  16,  1798, 
after  he  had  been  twice  President,  to  Mrs. 
Sarah  Fairfax  in  England,  where  she  had 
gone  to  live.  She  was  the  widow  of  that 
George  Fairfax  with  whom  he  began  his 
surveying  journey  on  that  "Fryday"  the 
nth  of  March,  fifty  years  before. 

He  had  forgotten  the  sorrows  of  that 
earlier  time,  of  which  the  following  letter 
will  give  us  a  smiling  glimpse:  — 

"Dear    Friend    Robin  .  .  .  My   place  of 

50 


residence  is  at  present  at  his  Lordship's,  Seven 
where  I  might,  was  my  heart  disengaged, 
pass  my  time  very  pleasantly  as  there's  a 
very  agreeable  young  lady  lives  in  the  same 
house.  .  .  .  But  as  that's  only  adding  fuel 
to  fire,  it  makes  me  the  more  uneasy,  for  by 
often  and  inevitably,  being  in  company  with 
her  revives  my  former  passion  for  your 
Lowland  beauty;  whereas,  was  I  to  live  more 
retired  from  young  women,  I  might  in  some 
measure  eliviate  my  sorrows,  by  burying  the 
chaste  and  troublesome  passion  in  the  grave 
of  oblivion.  ..." 

Buried  it  was  not,  at  once;  on  the  con 
trary,  the  lover  orders,  with  as  many  careful 
and  exact  details  as  if  it  were  a  survey,  a 
highly  fashionable  coat  to  be  made  for  him: 
"  .  .  .  on  each  side  six  buttonholes  .  .  . 
the  waist  from  the  armpit  to  the  fold  to  be 
exactly  as  long  or  longer  than  from  thence  to 
the  bottom.  ..."  This  is  only  a  part,  less 
than  a  third,  of  his  directions  about  this 

51 


Seven  coat,  and  does  it  not  read  remarkably  like  a 

Ayes  of  2 

survey  ? 
Washington 

But  coat  and  all,  he  did  not  win  his  Low 
land  beauty  (whoever  she  was,  for  later 
guesses  fit  the  facts  imperfectly),  and  it  is 
plain  that  he  followed  now  the  most  usual 
and  most  wholesome  course  of  youth  - 
cured,  one  love-wound  by  receiving  another. 
The  next  lady  refused  him  twice,  we  know, 
how  many  more  times  we  do  not  know;  but 
when  this  case  proved  hopeless  too,  young 
George  again  had  recourse  to  the  like-cures- 
like  treatment,  and  not  for  the  last  time. 
With  him  it  would  seem  to  have  proved 
invariably  successful. 

Why  was  he  so  unlucky  in  these  affairs  ? 
Why  did  he  so  fail  to  win  young  women's 
hearts  ?  He  was  strong,  athletic,  tall,  a 
daring  rider,  his  manliness  had  won  the 
hearts  of  his  brother  and  Lord  Fairfax. 
What,  then,  was  the  matter  ?  It  is  hard  to 
come  at  the  reason,  and  very  likely  there  is 


no  one  reason.     In  his  favor  he  had  those   Seven 

personal    attributes     just     enumerated,    and     f 

J  Washington 

beyond  these,  the  public  mark  he  was  already 
beginning  to  make.  Appointed  public  sur 
veyor  very  soon,  at  the  instance  of  Lord 
Fairfax,  before  he  was  twenty  he  had  the 
position  of  adjutant-general  with  the  rank 
of  Major.  These  are  bright  trophies  to 
flourish  in  he  eyes  of  the  fair.  But  we  may 
be  sure  that  he  did  not  flourish  them,  that 
the  modesty  and  respectfulness  which  so 
commended  him  to  his  elderly  patron  still 
always  became  bashfulness  when  with  a 
young  woman;  it  is  moreover  possible  that 
his  gravity,  his  lack  of  quick  light  talk, 
frightened  them  off  when  it  came  to  tying 
themselves  to  it  for  life.  And  last,  but  least 
by  no  means,  let  us  remember  his  nose.  It 
was  a  formidable  feature  —  it  never  ceased 
to  be  so  —  and  in  these  budding  days  of 
manhood,  it  beaked  out  of  that  young  face 
in  overweening  scale.  Corresponding  to  this 

53 


Seven  nose  without,  was  a  character  within,  huge, 

forcible,  out  of  scale  with  the  immature  years 

Washington 

and  experience  of  its  possessor.  Perhaps  the 
reader  has  at  some  time  known  a  friend  or 
acquaintance  who  was  more  symmetrical  at 
thirty  than  at  twenty,  who  was  slow  in  grow 
ing  up  to  himself.  Not  a  few  men  are  so, 
and  when  a  creature  of  Washington's  moral 
dimensions  comes  upon  earth,  his  early 
personality  is  sure  to  be  somewhat  ungainly. 
Moreover,  he  is  certain  to  crowd  those  who 
are  near  him  without  meaning  it,  or  even 
knowing  it.  With  the  best  of  intentions,  with 
the  most  real  modesty,  Washington  must 
have  been  not  seldom  an  uncomfortable, 
unwieldy  companion  among  those  of  his 
own  age.  If  we  think  these  things  over, 
we  feel  that  we  may  understand  why  the 
girls  would  not  have  him. 

His  minute  directions  about  a  coat  have 
been  seen  above,  and  this  care  as  to  dress 
never  left  him.     A  proper  appearance  was 
54 


one  of  the  many  things  to  which  his  mind,  in  Seven 
due  proportion,  attended,  and  almost  always  j?  ,. 
with  that  same  precision  of  detail  which  he 
gave  to  all  the  multitudinous  matters,  public 
and  private,  that  he  took  up.  So  it  was  with 
the  harness  for  his  horses,  and  his  carnage; 
we  can  find  numerous  directions  written  to 
England  about  his  wife's  clothes !  ^  If  the 
Lowland  beauty  and  her  several  successors 
had  ever  the  faintest  inkling  that  their  suitor 
would  supervise  their  petticoats  and  far 
thingales,  we  need  speculate  no  further  why 
they  one  and  all  dismissed  him.  In  the 
general  panorama  of  orders  about  apparel 
that  mingles  with  his  writings,  the  most 
interesting  trait  of  all  is  the  appropriate 
ness;  as  he  grows  older,  he  orders  more 
sober  garments.  At  no  period,  young  or 
old,  is  it  common  to  find  him  as  unspecific 
as  this:  — 


55 


Seven  "FORT  CUMBERLAND,  14  May,  1755. 

"DEAR  BROTHER: 

Washington 

"As  wearing  boots  is  quite  the  mode,  and 
mine  are  in  a  declining  state,  I  must  beg  the 
favor  of  you  to  procure  me  a  pair  that  is 
good  and  neat." 

There  is  one  more  word  to  say  about  the 
surveys  of  this  frequent  young  lover;  they 
suffered  no  neglect  through  the  preoccupa 
tions  of  his  heart.  So  accurate  they  were, 
that  to  this  day  they  stand  unquestioned, 
wherever  found. 

What  did  they  for  his  character  ?  —  Sleep 
ing  (as  he  records)  in  "one  thread  bear 
blanket  with  double  its  weight  of  vermin," 
or  lodging  "where  we  had  a  good  dinner  .  .  . 
wine  and  Rum  punch  in  plenty,  a  good 
Feather  Bed  with  clean  sheets,"  or  having 
"our  tent  carried  quite  off  with  ye  wind," 
or  meeting  Indians  coming  from  war,  who 
entertain  him  with  a  war-dance,  jumping 

56 


about  ye  Ring  in  a  most  cornicle  manner."   Seven 


It   was    the    apprenticeship,    the    seasoning;      ;,. 

Washington 

he  was  learning  the  alphabet  of  Trenton  and 
Valley  Forge,  personal  discomfort  was  noth 
ing  to  his  body  or  his  mind  that  loved  a  pretty 
coat  on  the  proper  occasion.  His  rides,  his 
camps,  his  river  swimming  and  rough  wander 
ing  brought  him  close  to  those  who  were  to  be 
his  soldiers  hereafter,  and  brought  them  close 
to  him;  he  and  Virginia  learned  to  know 
each  other.  He  became  a  woodsman,  a  path 
finder,  a  shrewd  judge  of  wild  country  and  of 
wild  human  nature,  he  wore  an  Indian  hunt 
ing  shirt  —  but  remained  civilized  all  the 
while.  For  Lord  Fairfax  was  always  there 
to  come  home  to  from  the  log-cabins; 
Lord  Fairfax  at  Belvoir,  or  at  Greenway 
Court  his  new  place,  and  Lawrence  Wash 
ington  at  Mount  Vernon,  and  their  visitors,  of 
good  manners  and  urbane  knowledge  of  the 
great  world  —  gentlemen  and  ladies  —  a  so 
ciety  to  hold  the  backwoods  surveyor  to  his 

57 


Seven  standards;    and  there  were  the  books  also, 

The  Spectator,  and  other  sound  volumes  that 

w asntngton 

he  evidently  read  beneath  their  roofs.  Thus, 
while  the  wilderness  entered  into  his  strong 
body,  many  wholesome  things  entered  into 
his  strong  brain,  and  tenaciously  stayed 
there. 

To  us,  because  we  never  saw  him,  it  is 
wonderful  to  find  him  adjutant-general  of  his 
district  at  twenty;  that  is  the  age  when  our 
present  privileged  youth  is  carrying  brokers' 
messages,  or  stealing  signs  at  college.  It 
was  not  wonderful  to  those  who  did  see  him 
-his  appointment  was  made  easily.  After 
this,  it  is  less  wonderful  (since  we  begin  to 
perceive  how  large  his  figure  was  growing  in 
the  community)  to  find  him  at  twenty-two 
chosen  by  the  Governor  of  Virginia  to  go  to 
the  agitated  frontier  upon  a  general  mission  of 
pacification  among  the  French,  the  Indians, 
and  the  restless  colonists.  His  dear  brother 
Lawrence  was  now  dead,  whose  health  for 

58 


some  years  had  been  failing.  A  journey  to  Seven 
the  Barbadoes  had  not  brought  Lawrence  the  ^JL  ton 
strength  he  had  sailed  there  to  seek,  while 
to  George  who  accompanied  him  (the  only 
occasion  when  Washington  was  ever  absent 
from  our  continent)  it  had  brought  small 
pox,  of  which  his  face  carried  the  marks  all 
his  life.  But  young  Washington  had  passed 
beyond  the  need  of  any  protector.  He  re 
turned  from  his  mission  to  the  Ohio  — 
Venango,  Duquesne,  let  them  here  be  named 
—  having  come  safe  through  many  pitfalls 
of  Indian  treachery,  French  diplomacy,  and 
frozen  rivers. 

"There  was  no  way  [he  writes]  for  getting 
over  but  on  a  Raft;  which  we  set  about 
with  but  one  poor  hatchet.  .  .  .  Before  we 
were  half  way  over  we  were  jammed  in  the 
Ice  .  .  .  the  Rapidity  of  the  Stream  .  .  . 
jerked  me  out  into  ten  feet  of  Water."  Does 
this  not  seem  like  the  wintry  wraith  of  Tren 
ton,  prophetically  rising  ? 

59 


Seven  "Our  horses  were  now  so  weak  .  .  .  and 

the  Baggage  so  heavy  .  .  .  myself  and  others 

Washington  J  J 

.  .  .  gave  up  our  Horses  for  Packs  ...  I 
put  myself  in  an  Indian  walking  dress,  and 
continued  with  them  three  Days." 

"Queen  Aliquippa  .  .  .  expressed  great 
concern  that  we  had  passed  her.  ...  I 
made  her  a  present  of  a  Matchcoat  and  a 
Bottle  of  Rum;  which  latter  was  thought 
much  the  best  present  of  the  Two." 

These  few  lines  are  from  many  pages  re 
cording  that  journey;  pages  of  hardihood, 
caution,  and  resource,  with  now  and  then  a 
slight  suggestion  of  amusement,  like  Queen 
Aliquippa  and  the  rum. 

Thus  Major  Washington  came  out  from 
the  backwoods,  and  into  the  backwoods  was 
sent  again  almost  at  once,  but  now  as  Lieu 
tenant-colonel  Washington.  All  Virginia 
knew  now  that  she  had  found  a  man.  They 
wished  him  to  head  the  troops  raised  to  pro 
tect  the  king's  land,  but  he  wrote:  "The 
60 


command  of  the  whole  force  ...  is  a  charge   Seven 

f  11'  •  99      -dg?s    °f 

too  great  for  my  youth  and  inexperience.  *  ' 
"Dear  George,"  was  the  reply,  "I  enclose 
you  your  commission.  God  prosper  you 
with  it."  So  he  was  made  second  in  com 
mand,  but  through  the  death  of  his  superior 
officer  became  first  before  the  campaign  was 
over. 

God  did  prosper  him  —  though  not  in 
ways  immediately  visible  —  for  the  alphabet 
of  preparation  went  on,  —  the  severe  alphabet 
of  responsibility,  injustice,  privation,  defeat. 
These,  with  hard  recruiting,  scarce  horses, 
scarce  men,  and  stingy  pay,  were  his  next 
apprenticeship.  Washington,  a  colony  Colo 
nel,  was  paid  less  than  a  king's  captain, 
and  was  moreover  looked  down  upon  by  the 
king's  captain;  it  was  his  first  taste  of  that 
dull  superciliousness  in  the  mother  country 
toward  her  own  flesh  and  blood  across  the 
sea,  which  ended  in  the  estrangement  and 
loss  of  that  flesh  and  blood  for  ever. 
61 


Seven  "I  have  not  offered,"  Washington  writes 

wLhin  ton  Governor  Dinwiddie,  "to  control  Captain 
Mackay  in  anything  .  .  .  but,  sir,  two  com 
manders  are  ...  incompatible.  ...  He 
thinks  you  have  not  a  power  to  give  commis 
sions  that  will  command  him  .  .  .  that  it  is  not 
in  his  power  to  oblige  his  men  to  work  upon 
the  road  .  .  .  whilst  our  faithful  soldiers 
are  laboriously  employed.  ...  I  am  much 
grieved  to  find  our  stores  so  slow  advanc 
ing.  God  knows  when  we  shall  be  able  to 
do  anything  for  to  deserve  better  of  our 
country." 

There  we  have  it  vivid  after  a  hundred  and 
fifty  years  —  the  English  officer  nasty  to  his 
American  superior  officer,  and  the  English 
enlisted  man  nasty  to  his  fellow-American 
enlisted  man,  lounging  by  and  letting  him  do 
the  dirty,  digging  work !  We  need  to-day 
no  longer  take  the  stilted,  absurd  view  taught 
us  in  our  schoolbooks,  that  England  was 
a  "tyrant"  and  a  "despot"  to  us;  the  facts 
62 


will  not  bear  it.     Every  American  every  day  Seven 

is  suffering  ten  times  the  tyranny  from  trusts     £ 

Washington 

and  labor-unions  that  we  suffered  from  Eng 
land  before  the  Revolution;  but  between 
those  lines  of  Washington's  letter  to  Din- 
widdie,  we  catch  a  flash  of  that  intolerable 
attitude  of  the  Englishman  to  the  American 
then,  whose  exasperating  effect  really  did 
more  to  throw  the  tea  into  Boston  harbor 
and  to  write  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
than  all  the  acts  of  Parliament  put  together. 
But  how  bright  does  the  young  Washington 
shine  out  in  that  last  burst  of  fervor,  where 
the  little  homely  turn  of  grammar  seems 
somehow  only  to  make  him  the  more  engag 
ing!  "God  knows  when  we  shall  be  able 
to  do  anything  for  to  deserve  better  of  our 
country." 

Yes ;  the  alphabet  of  preparation  was  going 
on,  was  even  forming  into  words;  though  as 
compared  with  Trenton  and  Valley  Forge, 
those  future  days  when  the  weight  and  the 

63 


Seven  fate  of  a  nation  were  to  hang  like  a  millstone 


of         about  his  neck,  such  words  seem  of  but  one 
Washington 

syllable.     He    tasted    defeat    in    this    Great 

Meadows  campaign,  and  perfidy  of  colleagues, 
and  the  ingratitude  of  Dinwiddie  —  severe 
but  wholesome  flavors  for  the  future  loser 
of  Long  Island  and  Brandywine,  the  future 
comrade  of  Gates,  Conway,  and  Charles 
Lee.  Good  reason  had  he  likewise  to  lament 
his  total  ignorance  of  French,  since  trusting 
to  interpreters  led  to  a  number  of  crooked 
results,  by  which  his  reputation  was 
clouded  for  a  while.  So  once  again  he 
marched  back  from  Venango  and  Duquesne 
with  his  new  harvest  of  experience,  meagre 
supplies,  scarce  horses,  faithless  allies,  his 
conduct  questioned  —  and  in  the  end  no 
victory.  Yet,  when  all  was  sifted  clear,  he 
came  out  of  it  so  honorable  and  efficient 
amid  the  general  mismanagement,  that  the 
Legislature  voted  him  public  thanks.  His 
ups  and  downs  in  favor  also  resemble  the  days 


to  come,  when  Congress  at  one  moment  was  Seven 

for  superseding  him,  and  at  the  next  made  him     ges  * 

Washington 

military  dictator.  He  got  at  this  time,  too, 
an  Indian  name,  as  later,  by  the  British,  he 
came  to  be  known  as  "the  Old  Fox";  —  but 
by  that  time  he  no  longer  spoke  of  any  place 
as  "a  charming  field  for  an  encounter,"  as 
he  spoke  of  Great  Meadows  in  his  unwhetted 
enthusiasm.  It  was  now  that  his  young 
blood  took  joy  in  the  sound  of  bullets,  and 
that  he  wrote  of  his  strength :  "  I  have  a 
constitution  hardy  enough  to  encounter  and 
undergo  the  most  severe  trials."  We  may 
be  quite  sure  that  enormous  enjoyment  was 
constantly  his,  and  that  peril  and  the  meeting 
it  salted  his  many  troubles;  and  also  we  may 
suspect  it  was  the  mental  trials  of  having 
his  conduct  questioned,  more  than  any 
bodily  hardships,  that  caused  the  "loss  of 
health"  he  soon  speaks  of,  —  nor  was  the 
"loss"  a  heavy  one.  It  looks  as  if  young 
Colonel  Washington  had  that  impatience  of 

65 


Seven  any  ailment,   so  common   to   men  who   are 

almost  invariably  well,  and  that  he  took  his 

Washington 

present  indisposition  with  undue  gravity. 

Of  English  superciliousness  and  insolence 
he  began  to  have  repeated  experiences,  the 
king's  officers  being  the  offenders;  and  it  is 
no  surprise  to  find  him  thoroughly  roused  by 
the  mean  offer  of  a  nondescript  sort  of  rank,  a 
compromise,  carrying  no  pay  —  this  in  the 
face  of  the  recent  vote  of  thanks  for  his 
services  in  the  Great  Meadows  campaign, 
where  the  responsibilities  of  chief  in  com 
mand  had  devolved  upon  him.  In  answer  to 
such  an  affront,  he  writes :  "  If  you  think  me 
capable  of  holding  a  commission  that  has 
neither  rank  nor  emolument  annexed  to  it, 
you  must  entertain  a  very  contemptible 
opinion  of  my  weakness,  and  believe  me  to 
be  more  empty  than  the  commission  itself." 
So  he  goes  indignant  to  Mount  Vernon  (now 
become  his  own),  but  it  is  not  for  long.  Again, 
in  spite  of  his  mother,  he  is  off  to  the  French 
66 


and  Indian  wars,  wishing  "earnestly  to  attain  Seven 

some   knowledge   in   the   military   profession 

3  Washingto?i 

.  .  .  under   a  gentleman  of  General   Brad- 
dock's  abilities  and  experience." 

Thus  he  marches  to  another  encounter 
with  adversity  —  the  worst  yet.  Again  it  is 
the  old  backwoods  trail,  again  Great  Mead 
ows,  and  again  Venango  and  Duquesne, 
whose  sounding  names  seem  to  ring  like  bells 
of  omen  through  the  time  of  Washington's 
apprenticeship.  This  expedition  repeated,  in 
greater  dimensions,  the  trials  and  lessons  of 
its  predecessor;  British  insolence,  British 
stupidity,  with  failure  and  catastrophe  as 
the  upshot.  Braddock  applied  to  the  back 
woods,  against  Indians,  just  the  same  methods 
of  warfare  he  had  known  in  settled  commu 
nities  with  travelled  roads,  against  white  men, 
and  he  by  no  means  thanked  Washington 
for  offering  suggestions  about  the  habits  of 
Indians,  and  the  trackless  character  of  the 
country. 

67 


Seven  It  has  often  been  said,   and   is   said  still, 

that  Washington  had  no  humor;  but  this  has 

Washington 

been  pushed  too  far  —  to  the  point,  indeed, 
of  attributing  to  him  an  eternal  gravity  of 
appearance  and  a  stiffness  of  spirit  that 
never  stooped  so  low  as  fun.  Let  us  provide 
him  with  no  trait  he  does  not  himself  disclose, 
but  neither  let  us  rob  him  of  any.  Early 
in  this  lamentable  Braddock  expedition,  he 
writes  of  an  escort  of  eight  men  he  had  with 
him:  "Which  eight  men  were  two  days 
assembling,  but  I  believe  would  not  have 
been  as  many  seconds  dispersing  if  I  had  been 
attacked."  And  about  this  same  time:  "I 
have  at  last  discovered  .  .  .  why  Mrs.  Ward- 
rope  is  a  greater  favorite  of  Genl.  Brad- 
dock  than  Mrs.  F — .  .  .  .  Nothing  less,  I 
assure  you  than  a  present  of  delicious  cake 
and  potted  Woodcocks!"  Washington  had 
a  sense  of  fun,  could  be  on  occasion  sedately 
jocular,  and  also  (as  shall  be  seen)  could  be 
surprised  into  outbursts  of  hilarity  as  violent 
68 


as  his  occasional  outbursts  of  rage.     His  un-  Seven 

doubtedly  restricted  sense  of  humor  was  of     „   ,, 

Washington 

its  day,  eighteenth  century;  and  a  retort  of 
Goldsmith's  to  Dr.  Johnson,  while  they  were 
discussing  the  doctor's  ability  to  write  a 
fable  about  little  fish,  might  fit  the  Father  of 
our  Country  well:  "Why,  Doctor,  you  could 
never  write  a  fable  about  little  fish,  you  would 
make  them  talk  like  whales  !" 

Upon  this  expedition  Washington  added  to 
his  experience  of  military  blundering,  civil 
incompetence,  political  jealousy,  and  starving 
commissariat,  a  very  valuable  new  piece  of 
knowledge  —  that  British  soldiers  could  run 
away.  He  says:  "The  dastardly  behavior 
of  the  Regular  troops  (so  called)  exposed 
those  who  were  inclined  to  do  their  duty  to 
almost  certain  death.  ...  I  tremble  at 
the  consequence  this  defeat  may  have  upon 
our  back  settlers."  But  before  the  end, 
before  his  own  miserable  catastrophe  and 
death,  poor  British  Braddock  dropped  his 


Seven  superciliousness,  and  learned  to  respect   his 

^   ,.  young  Virginia   aide.     Washington   has   left 

words  about  him  both  friendly  and  just. 

Once  more  he  was  at  Mount  Vernon,  but 
busy,  scraping  troops  together,  after  four 
bullets  through  his  coat  and  two  horses  shot 
under  him,  with  such  a  record  of  bravery 
shining  through  the  clouds  of  Braddock's 
misfortune,  that  a  clergyman,  in  a  sermon, 
preached  in  Virginia  and  printed  in  Phila 
delphia  and  London,  says:  'That  heroic 
youth,  Colonel  Washington,  whom  I  can  not 
but  hope  Providence  has  hitherto  preserved 
in  so  signal  a  manner  for  some  important 
service  to  his  country."  How  strange  seems 
the  petulant  complaint  of  John  Adams  in 
after  days,  that  Washington  owed  his  dis 
tinction  to  having  married  a  rich  wife  !  He 
was  now  appointed  commander-in-chief  of 
all  forces  in  the  colony,  with  300  pounds 
compensation  for  his  personal  losses  and  his 
conduct  in  the  Braddock  campaign.  His 
70 


familiar  letters  at  this  time  speak  of  severe  Seven 

illness,  impaired   constitution,   and   damaged 

Washington 

private  fortune.  "I  have  been  upon  the 
losing  order  ...  for  near  two  years,"  he 
gloomily  remarks.  But  there  is  evidence,  in 
a  letter  written  to  him  from  the  Fairfax  house, 
of  some  alleviations :  — 

"DEAR  SIR:  After  thanking  Heaven  for 
your  safe  return  I  must  accuse  you  of  great 
unkindness  in  refusing  us  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  you  this  night.  ...  If  you  will  not 
come  to  us  to-morrow  morning  very  early  we 
shall  be  at  Mount  Vernon. 

"Sallie  Fairfax. 
"Ann    Spearing 
"Eliz'th.  Dent." 

Here  was  another  sort  of  harvest  from  the 
French  and  Indian  wars :  four  bullets 
through  his  coat,  and  two  horses  shot  under 
him,  atoned  for  bashfulness  somewhat  — 


Seven  perhaps    had    somewhat   cured    bashfulness, 

and  so  changed  his  aspect  to  the  female:  eye, 

Washington 

that  if  they  could  not  quite  marry  himj  they 

• 
almost  would. 

Alleviations    did    not    prevent    him    from 
promptly  starting  reform  in  the  militia*Jaws 

to  insure  more  strict  instruction;   the  French 

% 

and  Indian  War  still  framed  the  colonies  in 
from  North  to  South  with  a  band  of  fire 
and  death,  and  presently  the  young  com 
mander  of  Virginia's  forces  is  riding  forth 
upon  a  military  mission  to  Boston,  with  many 
alleviations  by  the  way,  as  his  list  of  expenses 
discloses :  "  For  treating  ladies  to  Micro 
cosm  1.8;  loss  at  cards  8.;  for  a  Hatt  .  .  . 
for  silver  lace  .  .  .  for  2  pr.  of  Gloves  .  .  . 
for  Cockades  .  .  .  for  Breeches  buckle" 
etc.,  —  here  are  the  relaxations  of  the  stately 
but  convivial  young  dandy,  as  he  passes 
through  Philadelphia  and  New  York  on  his 
journey.  There  are  no  bullet-holes  in  those 
coats;  but  an  arrow  from  Cupid  seems  again 
'  72 


to  have  made  a  rent  in  one  of  them  while   Seven 

he  was  in  New  York. 

Washington 

It  was,  however,  still  a  young  bachelor 
who  went  from  these  agreeable  distractions 
back  into  the  bloody  Indian  wars,  where  his 
manly  heart  was  soon  moved  to  its  depths  by 
pity.  He  writes  Dinwiddie:  "I  am  too  little 
acquainted,  Sir,  with  pathetic  language,  to 
attempt  a  description  of  the  people's  dis 
tresses  .  .  .  but  ...  I  would  be  a  willing 
offering  to  savage  fury,  and  die  by  inches  to 
save  a  people."  He  continued  to  taste  the 
superciliousness  of  "Regular"  toward  "Pro 
vincial"  officers  (England's  dense  arrogance 
was  laying  up  for  her  a  cumulative  retribution 
in  the  colonial  heart),  and  for  the  first  time 
he  came  in  for  the  public  servant's  inevitable 
portion  of  newspaper  abuse.  This  mongrel, 
heel-snapping  breed  of  injustice  nearly  cost 
the  colony  his  services;  he  declared  that 
nothing  but  the  danger  of  the  times  pre 
vented  his  instant  resignation.  While  re- 

73 


Seven  cruiting,  he  had  been  perforce  summary  both 

as  to  man  and  horses,  and  the  drunkenness 

Washington 

of  his  soldiers  at  Winchester  had  driven  him 
to  speak  excellent  but  incautious  words  of 
"Tippling  House-keepers."  This  brought  a 
violent  unpopularity  down  upon  him;  it  is 
at  this  day  most  comical  to  read  that  they 
threatened  to  blow  out  his  brains !  Many 
incidents  at  this  time  show  that  high  temper 
of  his  to  have  been  shrewdly  tried,  and  to 
have  flashed  out  now  and  then,  —  as,  for 
instance,  in  these  angry  sentences :  — 

"Your  favor  .  .  .  came  to  hand.  ...  In 
answer  to  that  part,  which  relates  to  Colonel 
Corbin's  gross  and  infamous  reflection  on 
my  conduct  last  Spring,  it  will  be  needless,  I 
dare  say,  to  observe  further  at  this  time, 
than  that  the  liberty,  which  he  has  been 
pleased  to  allow  himself  in  sporting  with  my 
character,  is  little  else  than  a  comic  enter 
tainment,  discovering  at  once  .  .  .  his  in 
violable  love  of  truth,  his  unfathomable 
74 


knowledge,   and  the  masterly  strokes  of  his   Seven 
wisdom  in  displaying  it." 

At  this  time  tired  with  campaigning,  he 
was  evidently  made  ill  by  worry  over  Gover 
nor  Dinwiddie's  treacherous  hostility  toward 
him;  he  was  obliged  to  leave  his  post  and 
go  to  Mount  Vernon  to  recover  his  strength. 
But  political  treachery  and  hostility  were 
again  excellent  things  to  become  inured  to, 
else  later,  when  our  country's  life  depended 
on  him  alone,  they  might  have  proved  too 
much  for  his  unschooled  endurance;  nor 
should  there  go  unmentioned,  among  the 
various  branches  of  his  education  during 
these  years  of  apprenticeship,  a  control  of 
temper  that  would  have  been  less  perfect 
had  it  been  more  complete;  there  are  times 
when  it  is  best  a  man  should  let  loose  his 
rage. 

It  was  nearly  six  months  before  his  health 
allowed  him  to  resume  his  duties  at  Rich 
mond,  at  which  time  we  find  another  lady  in 

75 


Seven  the  case,  and  she  seems  to  have  listened  to 

him    more    seriously    than    did    her    several 
Washington  J 

predecessors.  Was  it  fame  ?  or  had  he 
learned  the  art  better  ?  or  was  it  that  an  ill- 
used,  invalid  young  Washington  was  more 
than  the  female  heart  could  withstand  ? 
No  written  documents  guide  us  among  these 
surmises.  Besides  love-making,  he  was  busy 
again  with  soldiers,  and  had  a  troop  dressed 
in  Indian  hunting  garb,  remarking  that 
"convenience  rather  than  show  .  .  .  should 
be  consulted."  In  the  Revolution,  he  rec 
ommended  this  dress  again,  for  the  sake  of 
its  lightness  and  general  practicability,  with 
some  characteristic  words  on  the  value  of 
form  in  military  dress,  but  the  greater  im 
portance  of  utility. 

At  last  Fort  Duquesne  fell  (it  became  Fort 
Pitt,  and  then  Pittsburg)  and  the  long  tale 
of  helpless  citizens,  ill-fed  troops,  and  political 
incompetence  came  to  an  end.  The  bitter 
it  held  for  Washington  was  surely  surpassed 


by  the  sweet:  esteem  and  recognition  from  Seven 
thousands  everywhere,  far  beyond  Virginia's 
boundaries,  crowned  by  that  final,  that  per 
fect,  that  unique  tribute  from  the  Speaker 
of  the  House  of  Burgesses,  upon  his  installa 
tion  as  a  member  of  that  body.  He  had 
met  one  sweeping  defeat  at  the  polls,  when 
the  "Tippling  House-keepers"  had  taken 
their  revenge  on  him ;  but  now  this  had  been 
reversed  by  an  equally  sweeping  victory. 
It  was  in  Williamsburg,  in  May,  1759,  when 
Washington  was  twenty-seven  years  old,  and 
commander-in-chief  of  all  Virginia;  when 
his  first  war  was  over,  when  Montcalm  and 
Wolfe  had  fallen.  In  the  House  of  Burgesses, 
Mr.  Robinson,  the  speaker,  had  greeted  the 
young  member  with  such  praise  and  welcome 
in  Virginia's  name,  that  Washington  was 
overcome.  He  rose,  attempted  to  reply, 
blushed,  and  speech  failed  him.  "Sit  down, 
Mr.  Washington,"  said  the  speaker,  "your 
modesty  is  equal  to  your  valor,  and  that 
77 


Seven  surpasses  the  power  of  any  language  that  I 

As:es  of  ,, 

„,    . .  possess. 

Washington 

The  mind,  full  of  all  that  has  happened  to 
us  since  that  May  morning  when  the  young 
Father  of  his  Country  stood  in  the  House  of 
Burgesses  at  Williamsburg,  cannot  dwell 
upon  the  scene  without  the  heart  being 
affected;  Speaker  Robinson  spoke  true. 
Does  history  contain,  anywhere,  a  wreath  of 
words  more  beautiful,  which  time  has  only 
set  more  surely  upon  its  wearer's  head  ? 
We  leave  him  standing  among  the  Burgesses, 
tall  with  his  six-foot  three,  strong  and  straight 
from  his  campaigns,  grown  comely  and 
commanding,  slender  but  large-made,  a 
beautiful  serene  width  between  his  eyes, 
blushing  and  trembling  because  they  had 
praised  him  to  his  face. 


IV.  THE   MARRIED   MAN 


MARTHA  WASHINGTON 
From  a  painting  by  Gilbert  Stuart 


MOTOHiri2AW  AHT.HAM 
ttsdlrO  ^d  ^nttniBq  fi 


IV 

"  MOUNT  VERNON,  20  September,  1759.   seven 
".  .  .     The    Scale   of  Fortune   in  Amer-   ASes  °f 

Washington 
ica  is  turned  greatly  in  our  favor,  and  success 

is  become  the  boon  Companion  of  your 
Fortunate  Generals.  ...  I  am  now,  I 
believe,  fixed  at  this  seat  with  an  agreeable 
Consort  for  Life.  And  hope  to  find  more 
happiness  in  retirement  than  I  ever  experi 
enced  amidst  a  wide  and  bustling  world." 

The  invalid  had  prevailed  in  his  courting; 
he  had  been  married  on  the  6th  of  the  pre 
ceding  January  to  Martha  Custis,  widow  of 
David  Parke  Custis,  and  daughter  of  John 
Dandridge.  She  brought  to  him  and  Mount 
Vernon  a  considerable  fortune,  and  she  made 
later  a  gracious  and  dignified  figure  as  the 
President's  wife.  Few  of  her  words  or  acts 
81 


Seven  are   recorded,   but  her  discretion  has  come 

down  to  us.     In  the  mind's  eye  of  the  Nation 

Washington 

she  sits  forever,  serene  and  kindly  in  her 
white  cap  and  kerchief,  our  country's  first 
hostess.  The  gentle  haze  of  legend  benefi 
cently  keeps  her,  as  she  should  be,  a  living 
but  quiet  spirit,  watching  from  the  soft 
twilight  of  her  privacy  the  destinies  of  the 
Republic  she  played  her  part  in  founding. 

It  is  no  great  strain  of  metaphor  to  say  that 
Washington  had  now  his  first  chance  to  sit 
down  since  the  days  when  he  had  pored  over 
his  school  copy-book;  in  very  truth  it  made 
a  sort  of  pause,  a  breath-taking,  between  the 
backwoods  and  the  Revolution,  and  he  loved 
it  best  of  all.  That  phrase  about  his  hoping 
to  find  more  happiness  in  retirement  than  in 
a  wide  and  bustling  world  was  not  an  elegant 
moral  sentiment  written  because  it  was  then 
the  heyday  of  elegant  moral  sentiments  in 
epistolary  prose.  His  letters  certainly  show 
this  prevailing  fashion  of  the  time,  but  far 
82 


less  than  those  of  Jefferson,  for  example,  —  Seven 

less  than  almost  any  one's,  —  their  sentences    Jfs , 

J  Washington 

generally  bearing  very  directly  on  some  point 
of  vital  public  or  private  necessity.  He  loved 
Mount  Vernon ;  to  be  there  with  his  garden, 
and  his  crops,  and  his  animals,  was  his  deep 
est  heart's  desire,  and  we  do  not  need  his 
word  for  it.  Were  his  writings  not  full  of 
the  conscious  and  unconscious  delight  in  it, 
and  yearning  for  it,  his  conduct  would  be 
enough ;  whenever  he  can,  he  is  always  going 
back  there,  and  when  public  service  prevents, 
sighs  often  escape  him  in  familiar  letters  — 
letters  that  he  signs  "With  affectionate  re 
gard,  I  am  always  yours"  instead  of  "I 
am  &c.,"  or  "I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  most 
obedient  &c.,"  or  any  of  those  reticent 
formulas  he  more  commonly  uses.  It  would 
not  be  ill  (in  a  more  elaborate  account  of  him) 
to  present  in  gradation  the  various  manners 
in  which  he  would  close  a  letter;  they  reveal 
much  of  him  and  of  the  situation,  from  the 

83 


Seven  "I  am  &c.,"  up  to  the  rare  "Yours  affection- 

wLhin  ately>"  passing  on  the  way  such  occasions  as 
when  an  unknown  lady  has  sent  him  a  poem, 
or  when  the  political  matter  is  very  delicate, 
and  the  person  a  foreigner  of  distinction, 
when  he  will  say:  "It  affords  an  occasion 
also  of  assuring  you,  that,  with  sentiments 
of  the  highest  esteem  and  greatest  respect, 
I  have  the  honor  to  be,  &c." 

For  a  while  it  was  now  his  lot  to  be  gen 
erally  at  Mount  Vernon  instead  of  hurrying 
somewhere  on  a  horse  with  ragged  soldiers 
behind  him;  this  domestic  and  pastoral 
pause  of  about  six  years  makes  the  longest 
parenthesis  in  the  rush  of  his  public  existence 
that  he  ever  knew.  Its  quiet  was  the  quiet 
of  deep  growth  in  character.  We  have  seen 
that  he  entered  it  a  large  man ;  he  came  out 
of  it  a  great  man,  ready  for  what  awaited  him. 
The  process  is  to  us  invisible;  he  never  set 
down  his  meditations,  and  the  hairbreadth 
steps  of  increase  elude  the  eye  as  Spring  does 


in  turning  to  Summer;  but  evidently  he  pon-  Seven 

dered,  reached  conclusions,  ripened  much,  was     ^   , 

Washington 

but  little  aware  of  it,  and  set  no  value  upon 
it  at  all  as  a  matter  of  any  possible  interest 
to  others.  And  certainly  he  would  have  re 
sented  inquiries  of  a  personal  sort  as  unwar 
rantable  invasions  of  his  privacy.  Once  in 
later  life,  his  silence  when  some  of  the  clergy 
endeavored  to  force  him  to  declare  his  reli 
gious  views,  very  plainly  told  them  that  he 
considered  their  attempt  a  piece  of  imperti 
nence.  It  is  singular  that  he  should  have 
been  made  out  a  devout  churchman  by  some, 
and  an  atheist  by  others,  when  his  own  acts 
and  writings  perfectly  indicate  what  he  was. 
He  gave  up  taking  the  Communion  in  middle 
life;  he  attended  church  regularly  as  Presi 
dent,  and  not  at  all  so  when  living  at  Mount 
Vernon;  in  dying,  he  said  nothing  about  re 
ligion.  His  nature  was  deeply  reverent,  and 
his  letters  so  abound  in  evidences  of  this  that 
choosing  among  them  is  hard :  — 

85 


Seven  (J77^)  "The  hand  of  Providence  has  been 

Ayes  of  .  •         11     i  •        i 

Washin  ton     S°  consPlcuous   m   a11  tnis>   tnat  he   must  be 

worse  than  an  infidel  that  lacks  faith,  and 
more  than  wicked,  that  has  not  gratitude 
enough  to  acknowledge  his  obligations." 

(1791)  "The   great   Ruler   of  events  will 
not  permit  the  happiness  of  so  many  millions 
to  be  destroyed." 

(1792)  "But  as  the  All-wise  Disposer  of 
events  has  hitherto  watched  over  my  steps, 
I  trust,  that,  in  the  important  one  I  may  be 
soon  called  upon  to  take,  he  will  mark  the 
course  so  plainly  as  that  I  cannot  mistake  the 
way." 

(1794)  "At  disappointments  and  losses 
which  are  the  effects  of  providential  acts, 
I  never  repine,  because  I  am  sure  the  alwise 
disposer  of  events  knows  better  than  we  do, 
what  is  best  for  us,  or  what  we  deserve." 

These  sentences  are  intentionally  not  taken 
from  public  papers,  or  formal  letters,  where 
convention  might  be  the  reason  for  their 
86 


existence,  but  from  letters  to  friends  where   Seven 

nothing;   of  the    sort  was    demanded;     they    r£ 

Washington 

are  therefore  spontaneous  expressions,  as  is 
this  final  one,  written  at  a  time  of  great  stress : 

(1798)  "While  I,  believing  that  man  was 
not  designed  by  the  all-wise  Creator  to  live 
for  himself  alone,  prepare  for  the  worst  that 
can  happen."  These  words  probably  state 
Washington's  creed  as  nearly  and  fully  as 
it  could  be  expressed;  certainly  his  deeds 
square  with  them  fully.  Do  we  count  among 
our  public  men  any  who  lived  less  for  himself 
alone  ? 

But  in  these  six  years  of  quiet  that  he  now 
entered  upon  at  Mount  Vernon  he  was  able 
to  follow  his  inclinations,  his  private  taste,  to 
live  for  himself  while  the  calm  between  the 
end  of  the  French  and  Indian  War  and  the 
beginning  of  the  Revolution  lasted.  He 
must  have  enjoyed  the  absence  of  some 
things  quite  as  much  as  the  presence  of  others 
-  he  must,  for  instance,  have  basked  in  the 


Seven  cessation  of  public  criticism.     It  would   be 

a  great  blunder  to  think  of  him  as  a  man 

Washington 

without  nerves;  he  was  exceedingly  sensitive. 
This  quality,  perhaps,  does  not  seem  to  fit 
with  what  he  was  else :  a  man  of  far  larger 
frame  than  common  —  his  measure  after 
death  being  six  feet  three  and  a  half  inches  — 
with  life-long  sporting  and  outdoor  tastes, 
with  a  brain  that  worked  by  slow  firm  steps 
to  secure  conclusions;  a  man  of  moderation 
in  food  and  drink,  though  a  lover  of  con 
viviality,  a  natural  leader,  with  almost  in 
destructible  endurance  of  body,  and  com 
pletely  indestructible  endurance  of  spirit. 
This  is  a  character  we  should  imagine  imper 
vious  to  carp  and  cavil,  being  made  of  such 
stern  stuff;  but  it  will  not  do  to  trust  imagi 
nation  in  these  matters.  It  was  in  their  fool 
ish  attempt  to  make  of  Washington  what  they 
imagined  he  ought  to  be  —  edifyingly  super 
human  —  that  his  early  biographers  missed 
making  him  alive.  The  man  himself,  as  he 


has    written    himself   unwittingly    down    for  Seven 

ever   in   his    letters    and   diaries  —  chokeful    r_£ 

Washington 

of  vigor,  nobility,  kindness,  public  spirit, 
now  breaking  out  in  a  fury  at  some  news 
paper  attack,  and  now  indulging  in  sedate 
fun  (somewhat  broad  at  times)  —  such  a 
man  is  far  more  edifying  than  any  concocted 
figurehead  of  monotonously  calm  superiority. 
It  has  already  been  said  that  Washington's 
ill-health  at  the  close  of  the  French  and 
Indian  wars  was  more  owing  to  mental 
strain  over  the  bad  treatment  he  received  at 
Governor  Dinwiddie's  hands  than  to  physical 
hardship,  and  that  he  entertained  thoughts 
of  resigning  which  were  expelled  only  by 
his  sense  of  patriotic  responsibility.  When 
this  was  past,  he  did  resign.  We  have  also 
seen  his  trembling  and  stammering  under 
the  embarrassment  of  praise  in  public, 
and  we  shall  see  later  his  explosion  of  rage 
at  a  political  cartoon  shown  him  during  a 
cabinet  meeting.  During  the  Revolution, 


Seven  he  had  a  tiff  with  Hamilton,  and  Hamilton 

went  off  in  a  huff;  almost  at  once  Washington 

Washington 

sent  a  message  of  amend  to  his  fiery  young 
subordinate.  It  was  a  plain  case  of  impatience 
on  the  General's  part,  and  is  another  instance 
of  his  nerves.  Jefferson  wrote  that  he  was  the 
most  sensitive  man  to  criticism  that  he  knew. 
But  better  than  other  men's  opinions  as  to 
this  is  what  he  writes  himself.  On  receiving 
in  December  1795,  from  the  General  Assem 
bly  of  Maryland,  a  declaration  of  loyalty  and 
reliance,  he  responded  to  the  governor:  — 

"At  any  time  the  expression  of  such  a 
sentiment  would  have  been  considered  as 
highly  honorable  and  flattering.  At  the 
present,  when  the  voice  of  malignancy  is  so 
high-toned  ...  it  is  peculiarly  grateful  to 
my  sensibility." 

Still  more  freely  does  he  unveil  his  heart 
to  a  nearer  friend  in  1796,  and  this  passage 
is  worth  a  dozen  opinions :  — 

"Having  from  a  variety  of  reasons  (among 
90 


which  a  disinclination  to  be  longer  buffeted   Seven 

in   the   public   prints  by   a   set  of   infamous    r_f 

J  Washington 

scribblers)  taken  my  ultimate  determination 
'to  seek  the  post  of  honor  in  a  private  station/ 
I  regret  exceedingly  I  did  not  publish  my 
valedictory  address  the  day  after  the  ad 
journment  of  Congress.  ...  It  might  have 
prevented  the  remarks  which,  more  than 
probable,  will  follow  a  late  annunciation  - 
namely,  that  I  delayed  it  long  enough  to  see 
that  the  current  was  turned  against  me, 
before  I  declared  my  intention  to  decline." 
We  find  him,  then,  at  sixty-seven,  shrink 
ing  from  the  "infamous  scribblers"  just  as 
he  had  done  at  twenty-seven  —  sensitive  all 
his  life  long,  in  spite  of  honors  won,  and 
the  seasoning  of  struggle  and  of  age.  These 
are  the  things,  these  contrasts,  these  seem 
ing  contradictions  in  character,  that  strike 
the  flash  of  life,  and  let  us  see  across  the 
long  dark  distance  the  heart  of  Washington 
beating,  and  the  blood  surging  to  his  face. 


Seven  It  is  fabricated  consistency  that  kills  natural- 

ness. 

Washington 

Of  his  humor,  if  humor  it  may  be  called, 

some  instances  have  been  already  given. 
But  if  we  gather  before  us  all  the  anecdotes 
of  this  humor  that  record  has  preserved,  and 
consider  them  as  a  whole,  they  show  rather 
a  robust  sense  of  fun,  a  wholesome  power 
to  be  amused  (and  sometimes  uproariously 
amused),  than  any  subtle  gift  and  perception. 
That  Elizabethan  roughness  in  mirth  which 
surges  through  Shakespeare  and  which  still 
delights  the  gallery  to-day,  in  the  eighteenth 
century  still  delighted  the  boxes  as  well, 
all  classes  of  society  taking  a  pleasure  in 
"horse  play,"  which  a  certain  portion  of  our 
community  has  now  outgrown  in  its  decadent 
ascent  from  vigor  to  refinement.  Washington 
seldom  said  droll  things,  but  enjoyed  very 
heartily  the  droll  things  of  others.  We  have 
the  story  of  his  laughter  when  a  young  horse 
proved  too  much  for  a  boastful  rider;  of  his 
92 


laughter  at  something  told  by  a  famous  army   Seven 

raconteur  while  the  two  were   crossing  the    ./" ,. 

Washington 

Hudson  together;  of  his  laughter  at  a  joke 
made  by  a  visitor  which  threw  the  whole 
Mount  Vernon  family  into  mirth,  which  a 
parrot  at  once  imitated,  when  Washington 
exclaimed:  "Ah,  you  are  a  funny  fellow. 
See,  even  that  bird  is  laughing  at  you." 
We  have  also  the  account  of  how  he  laughed 
at  General  Putnam  (whom  he  called  Old 
Put,  being  fond  of  him)  on  an  occasion  which 
shall  be  mentioned  later.  We  have  other 
instances,  all  showing  a  power  to  enjoy  what 
the  Shakesperian  audience  enjoyed  in  the 
way  of  fun ;  —  in  short,  Washington's  laughter 
may  be  likened  to  a  big  bell  that  needs  a  good 
strong  hand  to  make  it  sound,  and  then  rings 
out  far  over  the  open  fields.  The  light, 
quick  tinkle  of  our  electric  age  was  not  any 
thing  that  he  knew,  and  perhaps  no  story 
about  this  side  of  his  nature  is  more  vivid 
than  one  told  in  a  foot  note  in  the  life  of 

93 


Seven  Jeremiah  Smith,  twice  Chief  Justice  of  New 

Hampshire,  and  a  visitor  at  Mount  Vernon 

Washington 

in  1797. 

''  Judge  Marshall  and  Judge  Washington 
(the  General's  nephew  Bushrod)  were  on 
their  way  to  Mount  Vernon,  attended  by  a 
servant  who  had  the  charge  of  a  large  port 
manteau  containing  their  clothes.  At  their 
last  stopping  place  there  happened  to  be  a 
Scotch  pedlar,  with  a  pack  of  goods  which 
resembled  their  portmanteau.  The  roads 
were  very  dusty,  and  a  little  before  reaching 
the  general's,  they,  thinking  it  hardly  re 
spectful  to  present  themselves  as  they  were, 
stopped  in  a  neighboring  wood  to  change  their 
clothes.  The  colored  man  got  down  his 
portmanteau,  and  just  as  they  had  prepared 
themselves  for  the  new  garments,  out  flew 
some  fancy  soap  and  various  other  articles 
belonging  to  the  pedlar,  whose  goods  had 
been  brought  on  instead  of  their  own.  They 
were  so  struck  by  the  consternation  of  their 

94 


servant,  and  the  ludicrousness  of  their  own  Seven 

position,  being  there  naked,  that  they  burst    Jfs ,. 

Washington 

into  loud  and  repeated  shouts  of  laughter. 
Washington,  who  happened  to  be  out  upon 
his  grounds  near  by,  heard  the  noise,  and  came 
to  see  what  might  be  the  occasion  of  it,  when, 
finding  his  friends  in  that  strange  plight,  he 
was  so  overcome  with  laughter,  that  he  ac 
tually  rolled  upon  the  ground." 

Here,  then,  is  an  aspect  of  the  Father  of 
his  Country  that  has  been  sedulously  kept 
from  all  the  generations  of  those  whom  the 
priggish,  sickening,  cherry-tree  invention  has 
turned  away  from  loving  him  for  being  like 
themselves  after  all,  and  who  have  given  him, 
instead  of  their  love,  only  a  perfunctory, 
uninterested  respect. 

Judge  Marshall  saw  him  roll  on  the  ground, 
but  Judge  Marshall  nevertheless  told  a 
friend  within  three  months  of  his  own  death 
that  he  was  "never  free  from  restraint  in 
Washington's  presence  —  never  felt  quite 

95 


Seven  at  ease,   such  was  Washington's  stateliness 

il"°f         and  dignity." 

Washington 

Dignity  and  rolling  on  the  ground  are  not 
incompatible;  Washington's  character  is  one 
of  those  rare  ones  which  not  only  can  bear  the 
whole  truth,  but  which  gains  by  the  whole 
truth.  Another  passage  from  Jeremiah 
Smith's  life  will  give,  as  well  and  as  simply 
as  any  of  the  contemporary  memories,  a 
glimpse  of  Washington  the  man,  the  host  in 
his  own  house.  The  visitor  arrived  late  in 
the  afternoon  - 

"...  And  received  a  most  cordial  wel 
come  from  Washington  and  his  lady,  the 
latter  'at  this  time  a  squat  figure,  without 
any  pretension  to  beauty,  but  a  good  motherly 
sort  of  woman.'  After  a  cup  of  excellent 
tea  &c.,  the  evening  passed  in  conversation. 
There  were  present,  besides  the  family,  a 
son  of  Lafayette,  and  another  French  gentle 
man.  While  they  were  talking,  a  servant 
came  into  the  room  and  said  to  Washington, 


'John  would   like   the   newspaper,   sir/     He   Seven 
replied,  'You  may  take  it,'  but  after  he  had 
gone  out,  said,  'he  had  better  mind  his  work.' 
He  then  told  Mr.  Smith  a  story  of  his  coach 
man,   a  long-tried   and   faithful  man.     One 
very  rainy  day  he  was  obliged  to  order  his 
carriage  unexpectedly,  to  go  a  long  distance 
on   business.      After  getting  into  it  he  per 
ceived  that  there  was  some  delay  about  start 
ing,  and  putting  his  head  out,  he  saw  that 
there  was  a  great  bustle  among  his  servants, 
who  were  trying  to  mount  the  coachman  on 
the  box,  and  with  much  difficulty,  at  length 
succeeded.     'What  is  the  matter?'  asked  the 
general.     The  servants  replied,  that  he  was 
intoxicated;    'whereupon,'  said  Washington 
to  Mr.  Smith,  'I  was  tempted  to  say  to  the 
man  at  once,  be  gone  about  your  business.' 
But  the  coachman  at  that  moment   turned 
round  and  said,  'never  fear,  massa,  I'll  drive 
you  safe/     'And   I   trusted  him,'  continued 
Washington,  'and  he  never  drove  me  better/ 

97 


Seven  "At  about  half  past  nine,  Mr.  Smith  signi 

fied  his  intention  of  retiring,  when  Washine- 

Washington  ° 

ton  also  arose,  and  taking  a  lamp,  led  the 
way  to  a  most  comfortable  apartment,  in 
which  was  a  fire  brightly  blazing.  He 
assured  his  guest  that  the  fire  'would  be  per 
fectly  safe/  and  intimated  that  he  might 
'like,  to  keep  his  lamp  burning  through  the 
night.'  In  the  morning,  after  breakfast, 
Mr.  Smith  took  leave,  though  desired  to 
prolong  his  visit;  and  a  very  urgent  invitation 
was  given,  that  he  should  'bring  his  bride  to 
see  them.'  Horses  were  brought  to  the  door, 
and  Washington  accompanied  him  some 
miles  on  the  way.  'He  was  always,'  said 
Mr.  Smith,  'dignified,  and  one  stood  a  little 
in  awe  of  him." 

"A  little  in  awe;"  again  that  touch,  given 
above  by  Judge  Marshall,  and  by  so  many 
others  —  in  fact,  unanimously  given.  That 
Judge  Marshall,  himself  a  considerable  man, 
should  have  seen  Washington  roll  on  the 


ground    with    laughter,    yet    after    that    still   Seven 


never  feel  quite  at    ease  in  his  presence  is    JT  , 

Washington 

wonderfully  significant  of  the  majestic  figure 
that  Washington  must  have  become  after 
bearing  our  young  country  on  his  shoulders 
through  so  many  years  of  its  weakness  and 
need.  The  truth  is,  a  great  man  cannot  do 
great  things  without  in  a  way  growing  apart 
from  his  fellows,  little  as  he  may  desire  such 
a  result.  For  somewhat  the  same  reason  the 
sight  of  a  huge  flood,  or  a  deep  chasm,  or  a 
high  mountain,  inclines  all  save  stunted 
spirits  to  silence,  and  personal  greatness  dis 
tils  inevitable  constraint,  and  draws  around 
itself  unknowingly  a  circle  of  isolation 
that  is  not  without  its  sadness.  In  Wash 
ington's  very  last  years,  we  read  that  during 
a  dance  of  young  people  at  Mount  Vernon, 
he  came  out  of  his  study  to  take  pleasure  in 
looking  on,  when  a  quiet  spread  over  the 
gayety  of  the  party.  It  was  explained  that 
his  presence  caused  it,  and  then  they  saw 

99 


Seven  that  tall,  weather-beaten  figure  go  back  to 

his  solitude  from  the  lights  and  the  laughter 

Washington 

whose  brightness  he  was  unwilling  to  dim. 

To  the  little  glimpse  of  Mount  Vernon  pri 
vacy  given  by  Jeremiah  Smith  —  the  servant 
asking  for  the  newspaper,  the  tale  of  the 
coachman,  the  host  lighting  his  guest  to  the 
room  with  the  brightly  burning  fire  —  this 
further  picture  is  worth  selecting  from  the 
many  that  have  survived.  A  visitor,  who 
was  afflicted  with  a  heavy  cold,  lay  coughing 
in  his  bed,  unable  to  sleep,  when  he  be 
came  aware  of  the  looming,  night-clad  form 
of  Washington  approaching  his  bed-side. 
Washington  was  bringing  him  a  bowl  of  tea 
which  he  had  got  out  of  his  bed  to  make 
himself  for  his  guest's  relief. 

It  is  likely  that  Washington's  familiar 
talk  with  his  friends  (in  those  rare  moments 
when  they  were  not  all  obliged  to  be  debating 
the  gravest  possible  matters)  was  not  infre 
quently  relieved  by  touches  of  that  sedately 
100 


MOUNT  VERNON 
Residence  of  Washington 


that  tall,  weather-beaten  figure  go  back  to 
*"s  so*ituc*e  f«>in  the  lights  and  the  laughter 
whose  brightness  he  was  unwilling  to  dim. 

r»  tft<  impse  of  Mount  Vernon  pri 

vacy  given  by  Jeremiah  Smith  —  the  servant 
asking  lor   the  newspaper,  the  tale  of  the 
-_ian,  the  host  lighting  his  guest  to  the 
>om  with  the   brightly   burning  fire  —  this 

with  a  heavy  cofd  ughing 

in  \\\\  bed,  unable  to  sleep,  when  he  be 
came  aware  of  the  looming,  night-clad  form 
of  Washington  approaching  his  bed-side. 
Washington  was  bringing  him  a  bowl  of  tea 
vhich  he  had  got  out  of  his  bed  to  make 
himself  for  his  guest's  relief. 

It  is  likely  that  Washington's  familiar 
talk  with  his  friends  (in  those  rare  moments 
when  they  were  not  all  obliged  to  be  debating 
the  gravest  possible  matters)  was  not  infre- 

MOMflHV   TMUOM 

quently  relievMni^ftti*jheat,«f  that  sedately 


100 


expressed  fun  which  occur  now  and  then  in   Seven 


his  letters,  such  as  the  passage  about  General    fj**.. 

Washington 

Braddock  and  the  potted  woodcocks.  In 
deed,  we  know  that  he  could  be  jocular  in  the 
very  heart  of  a  crisis.  On  that  memorable 
night  of  Trenton,  in  the  midst  of  the  icy, 
dangerous  Delaware,  he  turned  to  Henry 
Knox  with  a  rough  joke  that  still  lives  upon 
the  lips  of  men.  But  to  men's  lips  it  must  be 
confined  ;  a  printed  page  is  not  the  place  for 
it,  any  more  than  a  china-shop  is  the  place  for 
a  bull,  who  is  an  object  as  excellent  in  the 
fields  as  Washington's  speech  was  excellent 
on  the  Delaware,  in  the  presence  only  of 
Knox  and  the  boatman.  His  enjoyment  of 
hunt-dinners,  and  of  those  songs  and  jests 
which  come  after  them,  is  well  known,  and 
his  fondness  for  theatrical  shows,  and  shows 
in  general,  was  life-long,  as  was  his  pleasure 
in  dancing.  He  danced  during  war,  as  well 
as  in  peace,  and  up  to  within  three  years  of 
his  death  —  that  is  to  say,  when  he  was 
101 


Seven  sixty-four  years  old.     Perhaps   none  of   his 

letters     better     shows     the     changing     from 

Washington 

seriousness  to  amusement,   and  back  again, 
than  the  following  to  Lafayette :  — 


"MOUNT  VERNON,  10  May,  1786. 

"Mv  DEAR  MARQUIS, 

"...  It  is  one  of  the  evils  of  demo- 
cratical  governments,  that  the  people,  not 
always  seeing  and  frequently  misled,  must 
often  feel  before  they  can  act  right;  but 
then  evils  of  this  nature  seldom  fail  to  work 
their  own  cure.  It  is  to  be  lamented,  never 
theless,  that  the  remedies  are  so  slow,  and 
that  those  who  may  wish  to  apply  them  sea 
sonably  are  not  attended  to  before  they 
suffer  in  person,  in  interest,  and  in  reputation. 
The  discerning  part  of  the  community  have 
long  seen  the  necessity  of  giving  adequate 
powers  to  Congress  for  national  purposes, 
and  the  ignorant  and  designing  must  yield 
102 


to  it  ere  long.  .  .  .     The  British  still  occupy   Seven 

our  posts  to  the  westward.  ...     It  is  indeed 

Washington 

evident  to  me  that  they  had  it  in  contemplation 
to  do  this  at  the  time  of  the  treaty.  The 
expression  .  .  .  which  respects  the  evacuation 
...  is  strongly  marked  with  deception.  I 
have  not  the  smallest  doubt,  but  that  every 
secret  engine  is  continually  at  work  to  in 
flame  the  Indian  mind,  with  a  view  to  keep  it 
at  variance  with  these  States  for  the  purpose 
of  retarding  our  settlements  to  the  west 
ward,  and  depriving  us  of  the  fur  and  peltry 
trade  of  that  country. 

"Your  assurances,  my  dear  Marquis,  re 
specting  the  male  and  female  asses,  are  highly 
pleasing  to  me,  I  shall  look  for  them  with 
much  expectation.  .  .  . 

"The  Jack  which  I  have  already  received 
from  Spain,  in  appearance  is  fine;  but  his 
late  royal  master,  tho'  past  his  grand  climac 
teric,  cannot  be  less  moved  by  female  allure 
ments  than  he  is;  or  when  prompted  can 
103 


Seven  proceed  with  more  deliberation  and  majestic 

y  £?          solemnity  to  the  work  of  procreation.  .  .  . 

"...  Your  late  purchase  of  an  estate 
in  the  colony  of  Cayenne,  with  a  view  of 
emancipating  the  slaves  on  it,  is  a  generous 
and  noble  proof  of  your  humanity.  Would 
to  God  a  like  spirit  would  diffuse  itself 
generally  into  the  minds  of  the  people  of  this 
country.  But  I  despair  of  seeing  it.  Some 
petitions  were  presented  to  the  Assembly, 
at  its  last  session,  for  the  abolition  of  slavery, 
but  they  could  scarcely  obtain  a  reading.  To 
set  them  afloat  at  once  would,  I  really  be 
lieve,  be  productive  of  much  inconvenience 
and  mischief;  but  by  degrees  it  certainly 
might,  and  assuredly  ought  to  be  effected; 
and  that  too  by  legislative  authority." 

The  jack  received  from  Spain  was  named 
Royal  Gift  in  honor  of  the  King's  courtesy 
and  compliment  to  Washington  in  waiving 
the  law  against  sending  any  of  that  particular 
breed  out  of  the  country,  and  the  animal  was 
104 


the    occasion    of   several    other    passages    in   Seven 
Washington's  letters,  similar  in  spirit  to  that    ™TV 
in  which  he  wrote  Lafayette. 

The  breeding  of  animals  was  something 
to  which  he  much  attended,  he  led  all  his 
neighbor  planters  in  discovering  that  there 
could  be  no  profit  in  tobacco,  while  in  foreign 
ports  any  flour  bearing  the  brand  "George 
Washington,  Mount  Vernon,"  was  passed 
without  further  inspection,  because  his  honest 
goods  had  carried  their  reputation  even  over 
the  seas. 

With  his  small  book  learning,  his  general 
leaning  to  sport  and  the  open  air,  and  his 
uncertain  spelling  (even  in  the  letter  about  his 
marriage,  a  part  of  which  begins  this  chapter, 
he  speaks  of  London  as  the  great  Matrapolis) 
we  meet  another  flash  of  contradiction  in  the 
discovery  that  he  decidedly  liked  to  write. 
He  plainly  relished  filling  pages  with  his 
sentiments  and  opinions,  and  that  beautiful 
manuscript  of  his  must  have  been  a  quick 
105 


Seven  operation,  which  it  certainly  does  not  seem 

in  appearance.     Yet  this,  with  his  well-nigh 

Washington 

miraculous  energy,  is  the  only  explanation 
of  how  a  man,  so  occupied  in  action  as  he 
was,  managed  to  pen  literally  thousands  of 
pages  with  his  own  hand.  There  can  be  no 
doubt,  when  we  turn  over  the  fourteen 
volumes  of  his  published  writings,  each  of 
four  hundred  fifty  pages,  and  by  no  means 
including  the  entire  product  of  his  pen 
(they  omit  seven  hundred  and  one  letters 
and  addresses  published  elsewhere),  that 
quite  aside  from  letters  of  obligation,  George 
Washington  enjoyed  sitting  down  to  paper, 
quill,  and  ink,  and  that  when  he  once  got 
under  way,  he  was  quite  likely  to  fill  the 
sheet.  Sitting  down  to  other  things  was  less 
apt  to  be  so  welcome,  —  sitting  for  his 
portrait,  for  instance,  of  which  he  writes :  - 

"At  first  I  was  ...  as  restive  under  the 
operation,  as  a  colt  is  of  the  saddle.     The 
next  time  I  submitted  very  reluctantly,  but 
1 06 


with    less    flouncing.     Now,     no    drayhorse   Seven 


moves    more  readily  to  his  thills  than  I  to    _£''. 

Washington 

the  painter's  chair." 

In  this  diverting  account  of  his  own 
progress  toward  resignation,  we  may  read 
either  his  recognition  that  as  a  public  man  he 
must  submit,  or  else  that  he  came  to  enjoy 
it.  However  this  may  be,  his  sundry  con 
tacts  with  artists  —  painters,  sculptors,  and 
architects  when  it  came  to  planning  the 
Federal  City  (as  it  was  called  before  his  name 
was  given  to  it)  —  led  him  to  form  an  opinion 
of  the  "irritable  race"  which  he  expressed 
with  the  same  happy  unmistakableness  that 
characterizes  all  his  opinions  :  — 

"It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  however  com 
mon  the  case  is,  that  men,  who  possess 
talents  which  fit  them  for  peculiar  purposes, 
should  almost  invariably  be  under  the  in 
fluence  of  an  untoward  disposition,  or  are 
sottish,  idle,  or  possessed  of  some  other 
disqualification,  by  which  they  plague  all 
107 


Seven  those  with  whom  they  are  concerned.     But 

I  did  not  expect  to  have  met  with  such  per- 

Washington 

verseness  in  Major  L'Enfant.  .  .  ."  And 
writing  two  years  after  this  about  another 
architect,  his  mind  peeps  forth  again:  "Some 
difficulty  arises  with  respect  to  Mr.  Hallet 
...  his  feelings  should  be  saved  and  soothed 
as  much  as  possible." 

No  one  seems  ever  to  have  written  letters 
more  natural,  more  redolent  of  their  writer, 
than  Washington;  those  of  many  other  emi 
nent  men  -  -  Jefferson,  for  example  —  often 
subtly  betray  a  sense  of  being  composed ;  but 
to  read  the  correspondence  of  the  master  of 
Mount  Vernon  is  gradually  to  feel  one's  self 
in  his  presence,  almost  as  if  the  man  were 
sitting  there,  and  this  quality  is,  if  possible, 
more  striking  still  in  his  domestic  journal, 
from  which  we  give  a  few  foreshortened 
strokes,  in  order  to  paint  Mount  Vernon  life 
in  his  own  words,  written  during  the  early 
years  of  his  marriage. 

1 08 


"Several  of  the  family  were  taken  with  the   Seven 

measels  ....  Hauled  the  Sein  and  got  some    _£  . : 

Washington 

fish,  but  was  near  being  disappointed  of  my 
Boat  by  means  of  an  oyster  man  who  had 
lain  at  my  Landing  and  plagued  me  a  good 
deal  by  his  disorderly  behavior  ....  Mrs. 
Washington  was  a  good  deal  better  to-day 
but  the  oyster  man  still  continuing  his  Dis 
orderly  behavior  at  my  landing,  I  was  obliged 
in  the  most  preemptory  manner  to  order  him 
and  his  company  away.  .  .  . 

"Went  to  Alexandria  and  saw  my  Tobo 
...  in  very  bad  order  .  .  .  visited  my  Planta 
tion.  Severely  reprimanded  young  Stephens 
for  his  insolence.  .  .  .  After  Breakfast  .  .  . 
rid  out  to  my  Plantns  .  .  .  found  Stephens 
hard  at  work  with  an  ax — very  extraordinary 
this !  .  .  .  White  Frost  .  .  .  two  negroes 
sick  .  .  .  ordered  them  to  be  blooded  .  .  . 
Stephens  at  Winchester.  Visited  my  Planta 
tion  and  found  to  my  great  surprise  Stephens 
constantly  at  work  .  .  .  passing  by  my  Car- 
109 


Seven  penters  ...  I     found  .  .  .    George,     Tom, 

^Washington     Mlke     and    y°Ung     BiHy'     Had     °nly    HuSh'd 
1 20   foot    yesterday    from     10   o'clock.     Sat 

down  therefore,   and  observed  - 

"Tom  and  Mike  in  a  less  space  than  30 
minutes,  cleared  the  bushes  .  .  .  visited  my 
plantations  before  sunrise,  and  forbid  Ste 
phens  keeping  any  horses  upon  my  expense." 
Stephens,  by  this  time,  had  probably  learned 
to  quake  in  his  shoes.  "Went  to  a  ball  at 
Alexandria,  where  Musick  and  dancing  was 
the  chief  entertainment  .  .  .  great  plenty 
of  bread  and  butter,  some  biscuits  with  tea 
and  coffee,  which  the  drinkers  of  could  not 
distinguish  from  hot  water  sweetened  ...  I 
shall  therefore  distinguish  this  ball  by  the  stile 
and  title  of  the  Bread  and  Butter  Ball,  .  .  . 
"After  several  efforts  to  make  a  plow  .  .  . 
was  feign  to  give  it  up.  .  .  .  Mrs.  Posy  and 
some  young  woman,  whose  name  was  un 
known  to  anybody  in  this  family,  din'd  here. 
.  .  .  Spent  the  greatest  part  of  the  day  in 
no 


making  a  new  plow  of  my  own  invention.  .  .  .  Seven 
Sat  my  plow  to  work  and  found  she  answered 
very  well.  ...  A  messenger  came  to  inform 
me  that  my  Mill  was  in  great  danger  .  .  . 
got  there  myself  just  time  enough  to  give  her 
a  reprieve  ...  by  wheeling  dirt  into  the  place 
which  the  water  had  work'd." 

He  took  off  his  coat  in  this  emergency, 
and  labored  with  his  men,  and  he  probably 
did  so  on  many  another  occasion.  Such  a 
way  of  not  merely  owning,  but  mastering, 
his  property,  brought  him  to  a  most  thorough 
and  sagacious  knowledge  of  the  soil.  It 
were  easy  to  overload  our  narrative  with 
extracts  from  the  copious  pages  of  his  agricul 
tural  and  domestic  notes,  and  this  must  not  be 
done;  but  to  omit  these  altogether  would 
cause  the  reader  to  miss  a  direct  sight  of 
Washington  the  farmer  and  of  his  astound 
ing  power  of  detail. 

"Harrowed    the  ground  at    Muddy  Hole, 
which  had  been  twice  ploughed,  for  Albany 
in 


on 


Seven  pease  in  broad-cast.     At  Dogue  Run  began 

Ages  °f         to  sow  the  remainder  of  the  Siberian  wheat 

Washington 

.  .  .  ordered  a  piece  of  ground,  two  acres, 
to  be  ploughed  at  the  Ferry  ...  to  be  drilled 
with  corn  and  potatoes  between,  each  ten 
feet  apart,  row  from  row  of  the  same  kind. 
Sowed  in  the  Neck  .  .  .  next  to  the  eleven 
rows  of  millet,  thirty-five  rows  of  the  rib- 
grass  seeds,  three  feet  apart  and  one  foot 
asunder  in  the  rows."  (This  was  the  I4th 
of  April,  1792.) 

"Corn.  On  rows  10  feet  one  way,  and 
1 8  inches  thick  single  stalks;  will  yield 
as  much  to  the  Acre  in  equal  ground,  as 
at  5  feet  each  way  with  two  stalks  in  a 
hill;  to  that  Potatoes,  Carrots,  &  Pease 
between  the  drilled  Corn,  if  not  exhaustive, 
which  they  are  declared  not  to  be,  are  nearly 
a  clear  profit.  .  .  .  Let  the  hands  at  the 
Mansion  House  grub  well,  and  perfectly 
prepare  the  old  clover  lot.  .  .  .  When  I  say 
grub  welly  I  mean  that  everything,  which  is 
112 


not  to  remain  as  trees,  should  be  taken  up  by  Seven 

the  roots  ...  for  I  seriously  assure  you,  that    T/,eS  L. 

*  J  Washington 

I  had  rather  have  one  acre  cleared  in  this 
manner,  than  four  in  the  common  mode  .  .  . 
It  is  a  great  and  very  disagreeable  eye-sore  to 
me,  as  well  as  a  real  injury  in  the  loss  of  labor 
and  the  crop  (ultimately),  and  the  destruction 
of  scythes,  to  have  foul  meadows.  .  .  . 

"You  will  be  particularly  attentive  to  my 
negros  in  their  sickness;  and  to  order  every 
overseer  positively  to  be  so  likewise;  for  I 
am  sorry  to  observe  that  the  generality  of 
them  view  these  poor  creatures  in  scarcely  any 
other  light  than  they  do  a  draught  horse  or 
ox  ...  instead  of  comforting  and  nursing 
them  when  they  lye  on  a  sick  bed.  .  .  . 

"Doll  at  the  Ferry  must  be  taught  to  knit, 
and  made  to  do  a  sufficient  day's  work  of  it. 
.  .  .  Lame  Peter,  if  no  body  else  will,  must 
teach  her.  .  .  .  Tell  house  Frank  I  expect 
he  will  lay  up  a  more  plenteous  store  of  the 
black  common  walnut.  .  .  . 


Seven  "The  deception  with  respect  to  the  pota 

toes  (210  instead  of  418  bushels)  is  of  a  piece 

Washington 

with  other  practices  of  a  similar  kind  ...  for 
to  be  plain,  Alexandria  is  such  a  recepticle  for 
everything  that  can  be  filched  from  the  right 
owners  by  either  blacks  or  whites.  .  .  . 
Workmen  in  most  countries,  I  believe,  are 
necessary  plagues;  —  in  this,  where  entreaties 
as  well  as  money  must  be  used  to  obtain  their 
work,  and  keep  them  to  their  duty,  they 
baffle  all  calculation.  ...  If  lambs  of  any 
kind  have  been  sold  ...  it  has  not  only 
been  done  without  my  consent,  but  expressly 
contrary  to  my  orders.  And  sure  I  am,  the 
money  for  which  they  were  sold  never  found 
its  way  into  my  pockets.  .  .  .  And  I  wish 
you  would  reprehend  the  overseers  severely 
for  suffering  the  sheep  under  their  respective 
care  to  get  so  foul  as  I  saw  some  when  I 
was  at  home.  ...  It  is  impossible  for  a 
sheep  to  be  in  a  thriving  condition  when  he 
is  carrying  six  or  eight  pounds  at  his  tale.  - 
114 


And  how  a  man  who  has  them  entrusted  to   Seven 

his  care,  and  must  have  a  sight  of  this  sort 

Washington 

every  day  before  his  eyes  can  avoid  being 
struck  with  the  propriety  and  necessity  of 
easing  them  of  this  load,  is  what  I  have  often 
wondered  at.  .  .  . 

"It  is  to  be  observed,  by  the  weekly  re 
ports,  that  the  sewers  make  only  six  shirts 
a  week,  and  the  last  week  Carolina  (without 
being  sick)  made  only  five.  Mrs.  Washington 
says  their  usual  task  was  to  make  nine  with 
shoulder  straps  and  good  sewing.  .  .  . 

"Desire  Thomas  Green  to  date  his  re 
ports.  ...  I  fancy  it  will  puzzle  him  to 
make  out  508  feet  in  the  twenty  four 
plank  there  set  down.  .  .  .  How  does 
your  growing  wheat  look  at  this  time  ? 
I  hope  no  appearance  of  the  Hessian  fly 
is  among  it.  ...  In  clearing  the  wood, 
mark  a  road  by  an  easy  and  graduated 
ascent  from  the  marsh  ...  up  the  hollow 
which  leads  into  the  lot  beyond  the  fallen 


Seven  chestnut  .  .  .   and    leave  the  trees   standing 

A&es  °f         thick  on  both  sides  of  it  ...  if  too  thick, 

Washington 

they  can  always  be  thinned;  but,  if  too 
thin,  there  is  no  remedy  but  time  to  retrieve 
the  error.  .  .  . 

"Spring  Barley  .  .  .  has  thriven  no  better 
with  me  than  Vetches.  ...  Of  the  field 
Peas  of  England  I  have  more  than  once 
tried,  but  not  with  encouragement  to  proceed. 
.  .  .  The  practice  of  plowing  in  Buck 
wheat  twice  in  a  season,  as  a  fertilizer,  is 
not  new  to  me.  .  .  .  The  cassia  charmce- 
crista,  or  Eastern  shore  Bean  .  .  .  has  ob 
tained  a  higher  reputation  than  it  deserves. 
...  I  am  not  surprized  that  our  mode  of 
fencing  should  be  disgusting  to  a  European 
eye  ...  no  sort  of  fencing  is  more  expen 
sive  or  wasteful  of  timber.  .  .  . 

"I  find  by  the  reports  that  Sam  is,  in  a 
manner,  always  returned  sick;  Doll  at  the 
Ferry,  and  several  of  the  spinners  very  fre 
quently  so,  for  a  week  at  a  stretch;  and 
116 


ditcher  Charles  often  laid  up  with  a  lame-   Seven 

ness.     I  never  wish  my  people  to  work  when     ^es  °* 

Washington 

they  are  really  sick  .  .  .  but  if  you  do  not 
examine  into  their  complaints,  they  will 
lay  by  when  no  more  ails  them  than  all 
those  who  stick  to  their  business.  .  .  .  My 
people  .  .  .  will  lay  up  a  month,  at  the  end 
of  which  no  visible  change  in  their  counte 
nance,  nor  the  loss  of  an  oz.  of  flesh  is 
discoverable;  and  their  allowance  of  pro 
vision  is  going  on  as  if  nothing  ailed  them. 
.  .  .  What  sort  of  lameness  is  Dick's  .  .  . 
and  what  kind  of  sickness  is  Betty  Davis's 
.  .  .  a  more  lazy,  deceitful  and  impudent 
huzzy  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  United  States. 
...  I  am  as  unwilling  to  have  any  person, 
in  my  service,  forced  to  work  when  they  are 
unable,  as  I  am  to  have  them  skulk  from  it, 
when  they  are  fit  for  it.  ...  Davy's  lost 
lambs  carry  with  them  a  very  suspicious 
appearance.  ...  If  some  of  the  nights  in 
which  .  .  .  overseers  are  frolicking  .  .  . 
117 


Seven  were   spent  in  watching   the   barns,  visiting 

j^s  .  the  negro  quarters  at  unexpected  hours,  way 

laying  the  roads,  or  contriving  some  device 
by  which  the  receivers  of  stolen  goods  might 
be  entrapped  ...  it  would  redound  much 
more  to  their  own  credit  .  .  .  than  running 
about.  ...  I  .  give  it  as  a  positive 
order,  that  after  saying  what  dog  or  dogs 
shall  remain,  if  any  negro  presumes  under 
any  pretence  whatsoever  to  preserve,  or 
bring  one  into  the  family,  that  he  shall  be 
severely  punished,  and  the  dog  hanged.  I 
was  obliged  to  adopt  this  practice  whilst 
I  resided  at  home  .  .  .  for  the  preservation 
of  my  sheep  and  hogs;  but  I  observed  when 
I  was  at  home  last,  that  a  new  set  of  dogs 
was  rearing  up,  and  I  intended  to  have  spoke 
about  them.  ...  It  is  not  for  any  good 
purpose  negros  raise  or  keep  dogs,  but  to 
aid  them  in  their  night  robberies;  for  it  is 
astonishing  to  see  the  command  under  which 
their  dogs  are.  .  .  .  The  practice  of  run- 
118 


ning   to   stores    &c.    for   everything    that    is   Seven 

wanting,  or  thought  to  be  wanting  .   .  .  has 

Washington 

proved  the  destruction  of  many  a  man.  .  .  . 
I  well  know  that  things  must  be  bought  .  .  . 
but  I  know  also  that  expedients  may  be  hit 
upon,  and  things  (though  perhaps  not  quite 
so  handsome)  done  within  ourselves,  that 
would  ease  the  expenses  of  my  estate  very 
considerably." 

These  quotations,  it  will  be  understood, 
come  from  no  one  passage,  but  are  taken 
from  many,  written  at  widely  different  dates, 
sometimes  in  the  form  of  notes,  and  some 
times  addressed  to  those  in  charge  of  Mount 
Vernon  when  its  master  was  obliged  to  be 
away  attending  to  the  Revolution,  or  the 
Constitutional  Convention,  or  the  duties  of 
President.  What  is  here  given  is  perhaps  a 
thousandth  part  of  the  whole,  and  as  we  dis 
cern  Doll  at  the  Ferry  and  ditcher  Charles, 
and  the  superfluous  dogs,  sitting  in  the  back 
paths  and  crossroads  of  Washington's  im- 
119 


Seven  mortality,  we  see   himself,  in    neither    mili- 

Aves  of  , 

Washin  ton  ^^  n°r  Stat6  "ress>  but  eas7  m  nis  nonie 
riding  clothes,  passing  over  his  fields  at  sun 
rise,  watching  the  Siberian  wheat,  pointing 
where  a  new  road  should  go,  where  a  new  tree 
should  rise,  and  happier  in  those  pastoral 
hours  than  his  more  glorious  moments  ever 
beheld  him.  Upon  this  side  of  his  life  and 
character  we  cannot  dwell  again,  save  now 
and  then  to  remind  the  reader  that  it  lay 
always  in  the  depths  of  his  heart,  no  matter 
what  else  that  "spark  of  celestial  fire  called 
conscience"  might  be  driving  him  to  do  in 
the  service  of  his  country;  we  finish  our 
detailed  reference  to  it,  with  what  he  wrote 
Hamilton  at  the  time  he  was  considering  his 
last  speech  to  Congress. 

"It  must  be  obvious  to  every  man,  who 
considers  the  agriculture  of  this  country, 
(even  in  the  best  improved  parts  of  it)  and 
compares  the  produce  of  our  lands  with  those 
of  other  countries,  no  ways  superior  to  them 

120 


in   natural  fertility,  how   miserably  defective    Seven 


we  are  in  the  management  of  them;   and  that          ,, 

Washington 

if  we  do  not  fall  on  a  better  mode  of  treating 
them,  how  ruinous  it  will  prove  to  the  landed 
interest.  Ages  will  not  produce  a  systematic 
change  without  public  attention  and  encour 
agement;  but  a  few  years  more  of  increased 
sterility  will  drive  the  Inhabitants  of  the 
Atlantic  states  westwardly  for  support; 
whereas  if  they  were  taught  how  to  improve 
the  old,  instead  of  going  in  pursuit  of  new 
and  productive  soils,  they  would  make  those 
acres  which  now  scarcely  yield  them  any 
thing,  turn  out  beneficial  to  themselves  - 
to  the  Mechanics  by  supplying  them  with 
the  staff  of  life  on  much  cheaper  terms  — 
to  the  Merchants,  by  increasing  their  Com 
merce  and  exportation  —  and  to  the  Com 
munity  generally,  by  the  influx  of  Wealth 
resulting  therefrom.  In  a  word,  it  is  in  my 
estimation,  a  great  national  object,  and  if 
stated  as  fully  as  the  occasion  and  circum- 
121 


Seven  stances  will  admit,  I  think  it  must   appear 

Ages  of  _  „ 


SO. 

Washington 


At  his  death  in  1 799,  plans  of  crops  were 
found  written  out  for  1800,  1801,  1802,  and 
1803. 

His  marriage  brought  him  no  children, 
save  those  of  other  people  —  two  step 
children,  and  a  succession  of  nephews,  nieces, 
grand-nephews,  and  grand  nieces,  these  latter 
littering  his  domestic  life  with  the  respon 
sibilities  which  their  parents  had  failed  to 
meet.  Their  support  and  rearing  were  loaded 
upon  him,  and  strung  out  over  a  quarter  of 
a  century ;  some  of  them  lived  with  him,  and 
he  was  endlessly  paying  out  money  for  the 
others  —  for  their  food,  their  clothes,  their 
education,  and  sometimes  for  their  debts, 
as  he  had  likewise  done  on  occasion  for  their 
incompetent  fathers.  "Dear  Sir  [he  writes 
Samuel  Washington,  the  son  of  his  worthless 
brother  Samuel]  I  perceive  by  your  letter  of 
the  yth  Instant  that  you  are  under  the  same 
122 


mistake  that  many  others  are  —  in  suppos-   Seven 
ing  that  I  have  money  always  at  command.    ™ 


The  case  is  so  much  the  reverse  .  .  .  that  I 
found  it  expedient  to  sell  all  my  lands  (near 
5000  acres)  in  Pennsylvania  ...  Be  assured 
there  is  no  practice  more  dangerous  than 
that  of  borrowing  money  (instance  as  proof 
the  case  of  your  father  and  uncles)  .  .  . 
all  that  I  shall  require  is,  that  you  will 
return  the  net-sum  when  in  your  power,  with 
out  Interest."  Many  are  the  letters  like  this, 
beginning  with  a  lecture  and  ending  with  a 
kindness  —  and  many  of  the  loans  were  still 
unpaid  when  he  died;  in  his  will  some  are 
expressly  released.  Nor  was  it  his  own 
blood  alone;  his  wife's  relations  come  in 
for  his  help,  and  her  grandchildren.  In 
one  case  we  find,  "Mrs.  Haney  should  en 
deavor  to  do  what  she  can  for  herself  —  this 
is  a  duty  incumbent  on  every  one;  but  you 
must  not  let  her  suffer,  as  she  has  thrown 
herself  upon  me."  -  What  relation  Mrs. 
123 


Seven  Haney  was  to  him,  nobody  has  been  able  to 

find  !     Though   the  whole  of   this  miscella- 

Washington 

neous  brood  of  dependents  did  not  turn  out  as 
worthless  as  some  of  them  did,  his  unceasing 
generosity  and  watchful  care  may  be  said  to 
have  been  really  rewarded  in  the  cases  only  of 
Bush  rod  Washington,  his  nephew,  and  Nelly 
Custis,  his  wife's  grand-daughter.  To  her 
he  was  devoted,  as  his  constant  gifts,  and  his 
letters,  show,  while  of  Bushrod  he  was  both 
proud  and  fond.  But  he  had  a  niece  Har 
riot,  whose  name  ends  by  bringing  an  ex 
pectant  smile  to  the  lips  whenever  one  comes 
to  a  letter  addressed  to  her  or  a  reference  made 
to  her.  In  her  way,  she  evidently  annoyed 
her  uncle  as  much  as  did  Doll  at  the  Ferry,  or 
the  oyster  man,  and  when  one  finally  meets 
a  passage  alluding  to  her  conduct,  which 
"I  hear  with  pleasure  has  given  much  satis 
faction  to  my  sister,"  the  smile  becomes 
laughter.  When  the  various  boys  fallen 
upon  his  hands  begin  to  go  to  school  and  to 
124 


college,  the  good  Washington's  letters  to  Sev 
them  abound  in  affectionate  wise  counsel  as 
to  their  work,  their  play,  their  dress,  their 
company,  their  habits;  twice,  first  to  Bushrod 
and  then  to  George  Steptoe  Washington  (a 
grand-nephew)  long  afterward,  he  writes 
that  he  is  no  stoic  to  ask  too  much  of  young 
blood.  Not  the  least  touching  point  in  the 
many  documents  which  record  his  relations 
with  all  these  young  people  is  to  find  in  his 
expense  accounts:  "The  Wayworn  traveller, 
a  song  for  Miss  Custis,"  and  for  his  young 
step-children  in  his  early  married  life,  "  10 
shillings  worth  of  Toys,"  "  6  little  books  for 
children  beginning  to  read,"  "A  box  of  Gin 
gerbread  Toys  &  Sugar  Images  or  Comfits." 
A  passage  at  the  close  of  one  of  his  letters, 
written  when  he  was  above  sixty  (with  Mrs. 
Washington  in  good  health),  gravely  speculat 
ing  upon  the  possibility  of  his  marrying  again, 
is  in  keeping  with  his  habit  of  weighing  all 
contingencies;  one  of  his  brothers  had  five 


Seven  wives,    he    was    Mrs.   Washington's    second 

husband,    what    if    he    survived    her  ?     He 
trashtngton 

renounces  the  hope  of  children,  for,  he  says, 
he  would  not  commit  the  folly  of  taking  a 
young  wife,  but  a  partner  suitable  to  his 
years.  The  whole  paragraph  is  a  very  natural 
one,  if  scarcely  romantic,  and  we  may  be 
certain  it  would  have  been  little  pleasing  to 
Mrs.  Washington.  It  should  not  be  a  matter 
of  regret  to  us,  but  rather  one  of  relief,  that 
he  was  childless.  The  spectacle  of  a  great 
man's  children  and  grandchildren  is  so 
seldom  edifying,  and  so  often  mortifying, 
that  on  the  whole  it  is  better  none  of  his 
direct  blood  is  among  us,  and  that  he  stands 
alone,  with  no  weeds  of  posterity  clogging 
round  his  feet.  There  is  but  one  family  in 
all  America  whose  name  forms  an  un 
broken  chain  of  public  service  and  honor, 
from  its  progenitor  to  the  present  day;  in 
this  country  the  abolition  of  primogeniture 
makes  such  families  well-nigh  impossible, 
126 


and  with  the  gain  achieved  by  such  abolish-   Seven 

ment  goes  the  loss  of  hereditary  family  re-     f 

Washington 

sponsibility  to  the  State,  —  a  loss  so  far  not 
balanced  by  the  civic  responsibility  mani 
fested  by  the  American  citizen  as  a  unit. 
The  life  and  property  of  the  Englishman 
are  to-day  better  protected  than  the  life  and 
property  of  the  American,  and  this  is  owing, 
in  the  last  analysis,  to  a  better  public  opinion 
and  better  legislative  efficiency  in  England. 
Many  a  "younger  son"  has  gone  into  politics 
and  parliament,  and  shone  there,  because  of 
this  sense  of  hereditary  family  duty  to  the 
State.  How  many  of  their  American  equiv 
alents  are  in  Congress  and  the  Senate  ? 

It  has  been  said  —  quite  falsely  —  that 
Washington  made  his  wife  unhappy.  A 
number  of  these  scandals  have  a  clergyman 
for  their  source;  but  no  more  than  some 
lawyers  can  kill  our  ideal  of  Justice,  are  some 
parsons  able  to  disgust  us  with  Religion. 
The  various  tales  have  been  tracked  down 
127 


Seven  to  the  nothing  they  started  from,  even  the 

apparently  solid  one  of  the  Virginia  tomb- 
Washington 

stone  bearing  a  name  and  the  words,  "The 
natural  son  of  Washington."  There  is  no 
such  tombstone,  and  never  was.  Most  of 
these  forgeries  originated  during  the  time 
of  the  Conway  cabal,  when  Lee  (of  Mon- 
mouth  dishonor),  and  Gates,  and  others 
put  their  hands  to  anything  that  might  hurt 
Washington;  but  it  was  themselves  that  the 
pitch  ultimately  defiled.  Through  Wash 
ington's  forty  years  of  married  life  there  was 
constant  mutual  devotion  between  his  wife  and 
himself,  reliance  upon  him  from  her,  and  from 
him  solicitude  for  her  when  the  war  kept  them 
apart,  and  affection  when  they  were  together. 
While  Mr.  Lear,  his  last  secretary,  and  Dr. 
Craik,  his  warm  friend  and  physician,  were 
at  his  death-bed,  "fixed  in  silent  grief, 
Mrs.  Washington,  who  was  sitting  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  asked  with  a  firm  and  collected 
voice,  'Is  he  gone?"  Mr.  Lear  could  not 
128 


speak  but  held  up  his  hand  as  a  signal  that  Seven 

he  was.     ""Tis  well/   said   she  in   a  plain    J¥*Si_ 

W  asnington 

voice.  'All  is  now  over.  I  have  no  more 
trials  to  pass  through.  I  shall  soon  follow 
him."  [This  is  from  Lear's  account.]  And 
on  the  next  day,  "Mrs.  Washington  desired 
that  a  door  might  be  made  for  the  Vault, 
instead  of  having  it  closed  up  as  formerly, 
after  the  body  should  be  deposited,  observing, 
'That  it  will  soon  be  necessary  to  open  it 
again.'  From  that  day,  she  moved  from 
their  room  to  a  little  room  above  it,  which 
had  the  only  window  in  the  house  whence 
his  grave  could  be  seen.  There  she  lived 
until  she  followed  him." 

Into  the  quiet  of  Mount  Vernon,  some 
six  years  after  Washington's  marriage,  broke 
the  rumors  and  rumblings  that  were  to  end 
in  Revolution,  and  from  that  time  on  his 
mind  was  increasingly  aroused.  We  may 
perhaps  set  our  finger  upon  the  very  day  that 
saw  him  waken  to  resentment  against  Eng- 
K  129 


Seven  land,  —  home  as    he    called    her    to    the  last 


#  possible  moment,  —  the  29th  of  May,  1765, 

when  the  House  of  Burgesses  at  Williamsburg 
was  thrown  into  debate  "most  bloody" 
(as  Jefferson  describes  it)  by  certain  seven 
resolutions  moved  by  an  uncouth  young 
rustic  of  genius.  Patrick  Henry  had  already 
severely  disconcerted  the  established  leaders 
of  Virginia  by  his  argument  in  the  "  Parsons' 
Cause"  in  December,  1763,  when  the  wrong 
side,  through  him,  had  won.  But  on  this 
occasion,  by  those  resolutions  about  taxation 
offered  by  this  new  member,  and  by  his  speech 
"if  this  be  treason,  make  the  most  of  it" 
-  places  were  changed,  and  Peyton  Ran 
dolph,  Richard  Bland,  George  Wythe,  and 
Edmund  Pendleton,  sorely  against  their 
judgment  and  liking  at  first,  followed  the  lead 
of  Patrick  Henry  into  the  Revolution.  We 
can  see  the  progress  of  Washington's  mind 
through  the  next  ten  years  in  brief  fragments 
of  his  letters  —  those  ten  years  that  saw 
130 


Franklin     before     Parliament,    the     Boston  Seven 

"massacre"  (a  large  name  to  have  given  it),    Jfs, 

'     Washington 

the  tea  tax  (after  which  Washington  went 
without  all  taxed  articles),  the  Burgesses' 
many  dissensions  with  the  royal  governors, 
the  Boston  Tea  Party,  the  Boston  Port  Bill, 
the  Continental  Congress  to  which  he  rode 
as  delegate  with  Pendleton  and  Henry,  and 
at  length  the  outbreak  of  war:  — 

:( The  Stamp  Act  .  .  .  engrosses  .  .  .  con 
versation  .  .  .  many  luxuries  .  .  .  can  well 
be  dispensed  with  .  .  .  where,  then,  is  the 
utility  of  these  restrictions  ?  .  .  .  Great  Brit- 
ian  will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  the 
deprivation  of  American  freedom.  .  .  .  Yet 
arms  .  .  .  should  be  the  last  resource.  .  .  . 
Is  it  against  the  duty  of  three  pence  per 
pound  on  tea  ?  .  .  .  No,  it  is  the  right  only 
.  .  .  Great  Britian  hath  no  more  right  to  put 
.  .  .  hands  into  my  pocket  .  .  .  than  I  have 
to  put  hands  into  yours.  ...  I  could  wish,  I 
own,  that  the  dispute  had  been  left  to  poster- 


Seven  ity.  .  .   .     If  it  can  not  be  arrested  .  .  ,  more 

blood  will  be  spilled   .  .  .  than  history  has 

Washington  J 

ever  yet  furnished  instances  of  in  North 
America.  ...  I  am  well  satisfied  that  no 
such  thing  is  desired  by  any  thinking  man  in 
all  North  America  .  .  .  that  it  is  the  ardent 
wish  .  .  .  that  peace  .  .  .  upon  constitu 
tional  grounds,  may  be  restored.  ...  I  can 
solemnly  declare  to  you,  that,  for  a  year  or 
two  past,  there  has  been  scarce  a  moment, 
that  I  could  properly  call  my  own,  that  with 
my  own  business,  my  present  ward's,  my 
mother's,  Colonel  Colville's,  Mrs.  Sawyer's, 
Colonel  Fairfax's,  Colonel  Monro's,  and 
.  .  .  my  brother  Augustine's  concerns  .  .  . 
together  with  the  share  I  take  in  public 
affairs  ...  I  have  really  been  deprived  of 
every  kind  of  enjoyment." 

At  the  time  he  rides  to  the  Continental 

Congress,  an  account  of  him  is  given  by  a 

fellow  Virginian  among  a  number  of  pithy 

descriptions:     Of   Randolph,    "a    venerable 

132 


man  ...  an  honest  man  ...  a  true  Roman   Seven 
spirit;"    of  Bland,  "a  wary,  old,  experienced    Jf\ 
veteran  .  .  .  has  something  of  the  look  of  old 
musty  parchments,  which  he   handleth  and 
studieth    much;"     of   Henry,    "in    religious 
matters  a  saint;  but  the  very  devil  in  politics; 
a  son  of  thunder;"    and  of  Washington,  "a 
soldier,  —  a  warrior;    he  is  a  modest  man; 
sensible;    speaks  little;    in  action  cool,  like 
a  bishop  at  his  prayers." 

Yes,  he  spoke  little,  and  his  quiet,  with  so 
much  wisdom  behind  his  rare  words,  must 
have  been  a  balm  in  that  Babel  of  bickering 
and  jealousy.  The  "Fathers"  did  not  sit  in 
an  exalted  harmony  of  patriotism  and  knee- 
breeches,  as  they  have  been  too  often  pictured 
to  us ;  it  was  with  them  a  cat-and-dog  affair, 
not  seldom,  as  it  is  with  us;  this  it  is  better 
to  know  plainly,  to  save  us  from  that  shallow 
error  of  lamenting  that  in  every  respect  we 
have  fallen  away  from  them.  At  any  one 
moment  of  the  world,  there  are  thousands  of 

133 


Seven  times  more  fools  alive  than  wise  men,  but  in 

spite  of  this,  we  fall  heirs  to  what  the  wise  men 

Washington 

accomplished,  while  the  fools'  work  is  mostly 
perishable  in  the  long  run. 

The  journal  of  the  Continental  Congress 
discloses,  in  spite  of  its  cautious  meagreness, 
that  the  Fathers  were  inharmonious.  "Tues 
day,  Sep.  6,  1774  .  .  .  Resolved,  That  in 
determining  questions  in  this  Congress,  each 
Colony  or  Province  shall  have  one  Vote. 
—  The  Congress  not  being  possess'd  of  ... 
materials  for  ascertaining  the  importance 
of  each  Colony."  "The  difficulty  to  be  met 
was  raised  by  Virginia,  who  claimed  a  prom 
inence  that  the  delegates  from  other  Col 
onies  were  unwilling  to  concede."  [Con 
necticut  delegates  to  Governor  Trumbull, 
Oct.  10,  1774.]  We  have  further,  and  more 
piquant,  elucidations  from  the  diary  of  John 
Adams,  whose  nerves  were  frequently  jangled 
by  his  colleagues.  "Oct.  24,  Monday.  In 
Congress,  nibbling  and  quibbling  as  usual. 
134 


There  is  no  greater  mortification  than  to  sit  Seven 

with  half  a  dozen  wits  deliberating  upon  a 

Washington 

petition,  address,  or  memorial.  These  great 
wits,  these  subtle  critics,  these  refined  gen 
iuses,  these  learned  lawyers,  these  wise 
statesmen,  are  so  fond  of  showing  their  parts 
and  powers,  as  to  make  their  consultations 
very  tedious."  Thus  he  frets,  in  wholesale, 
and  thus  on  another  day  he  breaks  out  con 
cerning  one  of  the  delegates  from  South 
Carolina :  "  a  perfect  Bob-o-Lincoln,  a  swal 
low,  a  sparrow,  a  peacock;  excessively  vain, 
excessively  weak,  and  excessively  variable 
and  unsteady,  jejune,  inane,  and  puerile." 
We  need  not  believe  that  the  gentleman  over 
whom  John  Adams  pours  so  many  epithets 
was  quite  as  bad  as  all  that,  when  we  look  in 
the  face  those  extraordinary  and  peevish 
words  he  wrote  many  years  later  about  George 
Washington:  "I  will  be  bolder  still,  Mr. 
Taylor.  Would  Washington  have  ever  been 
commander  of  the  revolutionary  army  or 

135 


Seven  president  of  the  United  States,  if  he  had  not 

married    the    rich   widow   of  Mr.    Custis?" 

Washington 

He  also  laid  Jefferson's  eminence  to  his  wife's 
dollars.  Was  it  because  of  the  rich  widow 
of  Mr.  Custis  that  John  Adams  had  himself 
stood  on  the  floor  of  Congress  and  nominated 
Washington  for  commander-in-chief  ?  The 
true  reasons  shall  presently  be  made  clear. 
It  may  be  gathered  from  the  foregoing  frag 
ments  from  the  journal  of  the  Continental 
Congress  and  Adams's  diary,  that,  beyond 
their  common  enemy,  England,  North  and 
South  had  little  in  common;  Virginia  is 
claiming  a  prominence  that  angers  New 
England,  Massachusetts  (in  the  voice  of 
John  Adams)  is  calling  South  Carolina  a 
peacock,  and  here  is  the  feeling  of  Washing 
ton,  soon  after  reaching  Cambridge,  as  to  the 
Massachusetts  troops:  "I  dare  say  the  men 
would  fight  very  well  (if  properly  officered) 
although  they  are  an  exceeding  dirty  and 
nasty  people."  What  do  we  hear  in  all  these 

136 


voices  but  the  preluding  strains  of  that  Civil   Seven 


War  waiting  ahead  of  them,  almost  ninety     £/J,. 

J     Washington 

years  down  the  road  of  time  ?  But  on  hap 
pier  days,  the  Fathers  could  sit  in  harmony, 
and  perhaps  we  may  deem  this  a  preluding 
strain  of  the  ultimate,  sorely-tested  Union: 
"Sep.  1  8,  1774.  Resolved  unanimously. 
That  this  assembly  feels  deeply  the  suffering 
of  their  countrymen  in  the  Massachusetts 
Bay.  .  .  ."  As  to  which,  John  Adams,  in 
his  nobler  mood  :  "This  was  one  of  the  hap 
piest  days  of  my  life.  ...  I  saw  the  tears 
gush  into  the  eyes  of  the  old,  grave,  pacific 
Quakers  of  Pennsylvania." 

There  was  now  no  escape  from  war; 
Washington  went  to  Mount  Vernon  to  pre 
pare  for  it  and  was  there  until  called  back 
to  Congress  in  Philadelphia.  Again  in  his 
own  words  we  read  his  mind,  and  the  quick 
march  of  events:  — 

"(January,  1775.)  I  had  like  to  have 
forgot  to  express  my  entire  approbation  of 


Seven  the  laudable  pursuit  you  are  engaged  in,  of 

J^J  .  training  an  independent  company.  ...  A 

great  number  of  very  good  companies  .  .  . 
are  now  in  excellent  training;  the  people 
being  resolved,  altho'  they  wish  for  nothing 
more  ardently  than  .  .  .  reconciliation  .  .  . 
not  to  purchase  it  at  the  expense  of  their 
liberty.  .  .  . 

"General  Gage  acknowledges  .  .  .  his  men 
made  a  very  precipitate  retreat  from  Concord. 
...  A  brother's  sword  has  been  sheathed  in 
a  brother's  heart  .  .  .  and  the  peaceful  plains 
of  America  are  either  to  be  drenched  with 
blood,  or  inhabited  by  slaves.  .  .  . 

"(June  1 6,  1775.)  Mr.  President:  Though 
I  am  truly  sensitive  of  the  high  honor  done 
me  in  this  appointment,  yet  I  feel  great 
distress  from  a  consciousness  that  my  abilities 
.  .  .  may  not  be  equal  to  the  .  .  .  trust.  .  .  . 
As  to  pay,  Sir  ...  as  no  pecuniary  consid 
eration  could  have  prompted  me  to  accept 
this  ...  I  do  not  wish  to  make  any  profit 

138 


from  it.     I  will  keep  an  exact  account  of  my  Seven 

expenses  .   .  .  and  that  is  all  I  desire."     (It    r£ 

v        Washington 

was  all  he  desired  when  he  became  Presi 
dent,  also.)  1 8  June,  1775.  "My  dearest, 
I  am  now  set  down  to  write  you  on  a  subject 
which  fills  me  with  inexpressible  concern." 
.  .  .  19  June,  1775  (To  his  brother):  "Dear 
Jack,  —  I  have  been  called  upon  by  the 
unanimous  voice  of  the  colonies  to  take  the 
command  of  the  continental  army.  ..." 
19  June,  1775.  "Dear  Sir,  I  am  now  Im- 
barked  on  a  tempestuous  ocean,  from  whence 
perhaps  no  friendly  harbor  is  to  be  found." 
In  spite  of  John  Hancock's  aspirations, 
his  Massachusetts  colleague,  John  Adams, 
had  nominated  the  Virginian,  triumphing 
over  his  frequent  provincial  narrowness  with 
a  generous  and  patriotic  breadth.  Since 
Braddock's  defeat,  Washington  had  been  the 
greatest  military  figure  in  the  colonies,  his 
presence  in  Philadelphia  had  commanded 
new  respect  from  those  gathered  there,  and 

139 


Seven  no   other   American    had  the    authority  and 

the  following  to  override   all   jealousies   and 

Washington  J 

unite  all  views.  John  Adams  saw  this, 
and  certainly  of  him  it  may  be  said  that  the 
good  he  did  lives  after  him,  while  it  is  rather 
the  evil  that  is  interred  with  his  bones.  - 
When  Washington  heard  his  name  come  from 
Adams's  lips,  he  took  himself  hastily  out  of 
the  room;  indeed,  tradition  says  that  he 
ran ! 

Since  that  May  day  in  Williamsburg, 
1759,  when  he  blushed  and  took  his  seat  in 
the  House  of  Burgesses,  sixteen  years  had 
gone  over  his  head.  He  was  now  forty-three, 
his  figure  not  more  filled  out  than  formerly  - 
it  never  became  so  —  and  he  was  as  straight 
and  strong  as  ever.  But  although  his  plan 
tation,  and  riding  out  before  sunrise,  and 
hauling  the  seine,  duck  shooting,  fox-hunting, 
the  oyster  man,  —  all  these  had  kept  his 
health  vigorous  and  his  muscles  trained, 
his  eyes  had  looked  upon  approaching  storm, 
140 


his    mind    had    been    hot   over    the    mother  Seven 

country's  attack  on   the  core  of  her  child's    _£r/,, 

J  Washington 

liberty  ("every  act  of  authority  of  one  man 
over  another  for  which  there  is  not  absolute 
necessity  is  tyrannical,"  as  Beccaria  had  put 
it),  and  his  heart  was  sore  night  and  day  at 
the  thought   of    breaking   with    that  mother 
country.      As   he   was   leaving    Philadelphia 
for  Boston,  came  the  news  of  Bunker  Hill, 
whereat  he  asked  instantly,  had  the  militia 
behaved  itself  ?     "  The  liberties  of  the  country 
are  safe!"  he  exclaimed,  on  learning  of  the 
men's  brave  conduct.     He  was  a  true  prophet, 
but    much    lay  between    that  word  and    the 
goal;    we  may  be  sure  that  his   serenity  of 
countenance,  of  which  so  many  have  spoken, 
was  a  very  grave  serenity  on  the  ad  of  July, 
1775.     As  the  guns  of  Cambridge  thundered 
for  the    arriving    commander-in-chief,  what 
ever    the    bows    he    made    to    the    admiring 
ladies  who  looked  on,  such  bows  were  some 
thing  of  a  mask  to  his  preoccupations,  when 
141 


Seven  he    saw    the    ragged,    gaunt,    ill-disciplined 

troops,  and  remembered  that  there  had  been 

Washington 

a  total  of  four  barrels  of  powder  in  New  York 
when  he  passed  through  that  city  on  his  way 
to  this  army.  He  took  command  the  next 
day. 


142 


V.    THE   COMMANDER 


WASHINGTON    AND   LAP, 


"E   AT    VAL 


Y3JJAV    TA   3TT3YA^A,J   CJHA   HOTOHIHciAW 


V 

FROM  Napoleon's  sneer  at  this  war,  which  Seven 
Washington  now  headed  till  December,  1783,  Washin  ton 
to  Lafayette's  gallant  and  true  retort  to 
it,  our  Revolution  has  borne  every  grade 
of  epithet,  kind  and  unkind  —  as,  a  war 
of  outposts,  a  war  of  skirmishes,  a  war  of 
retreats,  a  war  of  observation.  The  last 
is  as  just  a  summary  of  so  miscellaneous 
and  outspread  a  story  as  could  well  be  hit 
on;  but  what  matters  any  name  for  a  fact 
so  portentous  in  human  history  ?  As  a 
war,  its  real  military  aspect  is  slowly  emerging 
from  the  myth  of  uninterrupted  patriotism 
and  glory,  universally  taught  to  school 
children;  its  political  hue  is  still  thickly 
painted  and  varnished  over  by  our  writers. 
How  many  Americans  know,  for  instance, 

L  H5 


Seven  that  England  was  at  first  extremely  lenient 

to  us  -?  fought  us  (until  1778)  with  one  hand 
in  a  glove,  and  an  olive  branch  in  the  other  ? 
had  any  wish  rather  than  to  crush  us;  had  no 
wish  save  to  argue  us  back  into  the  fold, 
and  enforce  argument  with  an  occasional 
victory  not  followed  up  ?  that  in  our  counsels, 
the  determination  to  be  deaf  to  such  argu 
ment  was  not  at  all  times  unswerving  ?  and 
that  had  England  once  consented  to  keep 
the  hands  of  Parliament  off  us,  it  is  more 
than  possible  we  should  have  agreed  to  re 
main  "within  the  empire"  on  those  terms? 
How  many  know  the  English  politics  that 
lay  behind  Howe's  conduct  after  the  battles 
of  Long  Island,  Brandywine,  and  German- 
town  —  lay  behind  his  whole  easy-going 
sojourn  in  this  country  ?  Such  acts  as  the 
burning  of  Falmouth  (now  Portland)  and  of 
Norfolk  had  not  the  sanction  either  of 
his  policy  or  Lord  North's;  but  they  made, 
in  Washington's  phrase,  "fiery  arguments" 


to    sustain   our   cause.     For    any    American   Seven 

historian  to  speak  the  truth  on  these  matters    J?' , 

Washington 

is  a  very  recent  phenomenon,  their  common 
design  having  been  to  leave  out  any  facts 
which  spoil  the  political  picture  of  the  Revo 
lution  they  chose  to  paint  for  our  edification : 
a  ferocious,  blood-shot  tyrant  on  the  one  side, 
and  on  the  other  a  compact  band  of  "  Fathers," 
down-trodden  and  martyred,  yet  with  im 
peccable  linen  and  bland  legs.  A  wrong 
conception  even  of  the  Declaration  of  In 
dependence  as  Jefferson's  original  invention 
still  prevails;  Jefferson  merely  drafted  the 
document,  expressing  ideas  well  established  in 
the  contemporary  air.  Let  us  suppose  that 
some  leader  of  our  own  time  were  to  write: 
"  Three  dangers  to-day  threaten  the  United 
States,  any  one  of  which  could  be  fatal :  unscru 
pulous  Capital,  destroying  man's  liberty  to  com 
pete;  unscrupulous  Labor,  destroying  man's 
liberty  to  work ;  and  undesirable  Immigration, 
in  which  four  years  of  naturalization  are  not 
H7 


Seven  gomg  to   counteract  four   hundred   years  of 

heredity.     Unless    the    people    check    all   of 

Washington 

these,  American  liberty  will  become  extinct;" 
-  if  some  one  were  to  write  a  new  Declara 
tion  of  Independence,  containing  such  sen 
tences,  he  could  not  claim  originality  for  them; 
he  would  be  merely  stating  ideas  that  are 
among  us  everywhere.  This  is  what  Jeffer 
son  did,  writing  his  sentences  loosely,  be 
cause  the  ideas  they  expressed  were  so  famil 
iar  as  to  render  exact  definitions  needless. 
Mr.  Sydney  George  Fisher  throws  all  these 
new  lights  upon  the  Revolution,  which  may 
perhaps  (in  its  physical  aspect)  be  likened 
to  the  gradual  wanderings  of  a  half-starved, 
half-naked  man  from  Massachusetts  through 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania, 
down  to  the  Virginia  peninsula,  where  at 
length  he  corners  his  well-fed  enemy,  and 
defeats  him. 

Lucky  it  is  that  the  day  of  desperation  and 
distrust    did    not    set    in    during    those    first 
148 


months  of  Washington's  command.     From  the  Seven 

early  moments  of  his  ordering  IndiaiWhunt- 

Washington 

ing  shirts  "for  the  army,  in  order  to  abolish 
provincial  distinctions,  and  deciding  to  be 
siege  Boston,  the  men  knew  that  a  great 
leader  was  come  to  them;  this  they  never 
forgot  through  the  starvation  and  nakedness 
and  pennilessness,  through  the  dismal  swamp 
of  years  through  which  they  followed  him. 
Sometimes  misery  was  too  much  for  them, 
and  they  went  to  their  homes  in  despair, 
unnerved  for  reenlistment,  but  in  him  they 
did  not  cease  to  believe.  With  the  Boston 
siege  his  star  rose  high;  he  showed  his  best 
powers,  and  successfully.  He  read  the  mind 
of  the  foe,  he  was  marvellous  in  keeping  his 
counsels  secret  from  foe  and  friend  alike, 
and  his  moral  courage  was  a  sort  of  tonic 
in  the  air.  Then  his  star  —  and  ours  — 
began  to  sink,  helped  by  the  great  disap 
pointment,  which  followed  the  great  hope 
of  Canada's  conquest.  He  had  written  the 
149 


Seven  noble   and   sorely  troubled   Schuyler,  whose 

experiences  were   proving   almost  too   bitter 

Washington 

for  him,  "We  must  bear  up  ...  and  make 
the  best  of  mankind  as  they  are,  since  we 
cannot  have  them  as  we  wish,"  and  to  such 
words  Philip  Schuyler's  generous  heart  re 
sponded.  But  there  was  no  one  to  prop 
Washington  thus,  as  the  sky  darkened  more 
and  more;  he  had  to  be  his  own  prop.  At 
Long  Island  he  was  outflanked  and  beaten, 
the  star  sank  lower,  and  by  the  end  of  1776 
was  near  setting,  when  in  the  deep  blackness 
of  Congressional  mistrust  and  military  col 
lapse,  he  risked  everything,  and  the  bright 
light  of  Trenton  and  Princeton  shone  upon 
the  scene.  Through  all  this  his  own 
powers  showed  brilliantly;  the  English  moved 
out  of  New  Jersey,  and  our  cause  had  a 
precious  breath  of  respite,  while  his  masterly 
strategy  got  him  from  the  British  that  title 
of  "the  Old  Fox."  But  the  star  had  not 
really  risen  yet.  The  next  summer,  1777, 
150 


saw  what  malcontents  always  called  "  Fabian  Seven 
policy";  nothing  good  happened,  and  then  J£*~ fL 
on  September  10,  Brandywine  happened 
-  something  bad  —  another  beating  from 
Howe,  much  like  Long  Island,  not  a  well- 
managed  affair,  only  to  be  followed  by  more 
of  the  same  kind,  bringing  up  with  German- 
town,  October  5.  It  would  have  now  been 
black  indeed,  but  in  twelve  days  came  that 
great  turning-point,  Burgoyne's  surrender 
up  in  the  North.  At  this  total  failure  of  a 
whole  British  army,  the  world  began  to  look 
at  us  with  new  eyes;  but  it  is  hardly  un 
natural  that  voices  at  home  said,  "No  thanks 
to  Washington."  His  Brandywine  was  con 
trasted  with  Saratoga,  for  which  the  specious 
Gates  got  the  credit  which  belonged  to  Schuy- 
ler  and  others,  and  then  followed  the  Conway 
cabal.  This  attempt  at  him  behind  his 
back  Washington  met  in  a  manner  such 
that  there  was  presently  nothing  left  of  it 
or  its  disgraced  leaders;  nor  did  the  Valley 


Seven  Forge    winter    witness    nothing    but    evil  - 

rotten    as    Congress    became    at    this    time, 

Washington 

rotten  as  was  the  commissariat,  rotten  as 
was  everything  touched  by  the  political  hand. 
Important  people  began  to  see  one  or  two 
important  facts :  that  we  had  swallowed  one 
British  Army,  and  that  no  British  Army, 
occupy  though  it  might  our  cities  for  winter- 
quarters  and  dancing,  appeared  to  be  able 
to  swallow  us.  There  sat  Washington  at 
Valley  Forge,  cold,  hungry,  and  ragged,  no 
doubt,  —  but  he  sat  there,  unconquered, 
and  meanwhile  our  famous  and  priceless 
friend  Steuben  had  arrived  with  all  his 
military  knowledge  from  Frederick  the  Great, 
and  was  drilling  those  hungry  patriots  at 
Valley  Forge.  The  result  showed  at  Mon- 
mouth  Court  House,  where  Clinton,  the  new 
general,  got  a  bad  fright  and  made  a  narrow 
escape,  which  would  have  been  no  escape 
at  all,  but  for  the  treachery  of  Charles  Lee. 
The  hand  which  France  now  took,  though  with 
152 


D'Estaing  and  his  ships  it  helped  us  to  no  Seven 
victory,  helped  us  most  importantly  at  once  JL* J 
in  bringing  to  Europe  a  knowledge  of  George 
Washington.  The  French  officers  took  news 
of  his  greatness  and  his  honorable  dealings 
back  with  them,  and  in  this  way,  too,  through 
him  our  star  began  to  burn  brighter.  But 
some  dismal  swamp  was  left.  We  sat  for 
a  while  at  a  deadlock  with  Britain,  each  side 
watching  the  other,  and  then  occurred  the 
treason  of  Arnold,  a  dark  and  heavy  ca 
tastrophe.  Although  help  from  Lafayette 
and  France  (where  he  had  gone  to  stir  it  up) 
was  really  about  to  come  again,  it  was  scarce 
yet  visible,  even  though  Rochambeau  was 
here,  and  the  new  year,  1781,  began  in  great 
darkness.  The  soldiers  had  not  been  paid 
a  penny  for  twelve  months,  and  man  cannot 
live  on  patriotism  alone.  There  was  mutiny, 
not  unnatural,  but  of  frightful  menace, 
which  was  met  by  the  politicians  with  their 
customary  impotence  in  the  face  of  any  great 

153 


Seven  reality.       This    bred     more     mutiny,    killed 

Ages  °f         quickly  by  the  soldierly  Wayne,  and  in  two 

Washington 

months  the  sky  brightened,  never  to  cloud 
so  thickly  again.  Money  came  from  France, 
and  patriotism  could  at  length  be  fed  and 
clothed;  last  of  all,  the  sea  was  made  ours 
by  France.  This  overbore  the  disaster  of 
Gates  at  Camden  in  the  preceding  August, 
already  somewhat  cancelled  by  his  great 
successor  Greene,  and  by  September,  Corn- 
wallis  was  at  Yorktown.  It  was  a  terrible 
moment  of  suspense  when  the  chance  seemed 
that  the  Count  de  Grasse,  with  his  ships 
that  gave  us  the  sea  during  that  crucial 
moment,  would  sail  away  before  Washington 
could  get  down  from  the  Hudson  to  Vir 
ginia;  but  he  waited,  and  on  the  iyth  of 
October  Cornwallis  surrendered.  It  was 
two  years  before  Great  Britain  signed  the 
treaty  of  peace,  but  with  Yorktown  ends  the 
war. 

Let  us  now  look  at  Washington    himself 

154 


briefly,  through  these  years  which  have  been  Seven 

briefly  narrated.     Once   again  we  take  sen-     ^ 

J  Washington 

tences  from  his  letters  covering  many  months : 
"I  know  the  unhappy  predicament  I 
stand  in;  I  know  that  much  is  expected  of 
me;  I  know,  that  without  men,  without  arms, 
without  ammunition,  without  anything  fit. 
for  the  accommodation  of  a  soldier,  little  is  to 
be  done.  .  .  .  My  own  situation  feels  so 
irksome  to  me  at  times,  that,  if  I  did  not 
consult  the  public  good,  more  than  my  own 
tranquillity,  I  should  long  ere  this  have  put 
everything  to  the  cast  of  a  Dye.  .  .  .  Your 
letter  of  the  i8th  descriptive  of  the  jealousies 
and  uneasiness  which  exist  among  the  Mem 
bers  of  Congress  is  really  alarming  —  if 
the  House  is  divided,  the  fabrick  must  fall. 
...  I  am  sensible  a  retreating  army  is 
encircled  with  difficulties;  that  declining  an 
engagement  subjects  to  general  reproach, 
and  that  the  common  cause  may  be  affected 
by  the  discouragement  it  may  throw  over 

155 


Seven  the  minds  of  the  army.     Nor  am  I  insensible 

of  the  contrary  effects,   if  a  brilliant  stroke 

Washington 

could  be  made  with  any  possibility  of  success, 
especially  after  our  loss  upon  Long  Island. 
But  ...  I  can  not  think  it  safe  ...  to 
adopt  a  different  system.  .  .  .  [This  next 
is  in  a  very  dark  hour.]  In  confidence  I 
tell  you  that  I  was  never  in  such  an  unhappy 
divided  state  since  I  was  born.  To  lose 
all  comfort  and  happiness  on  the  one  hand, 
whilst  I  am  now  fully  persuaded  that  under 
such  a  system  of  management  as  has  been 
adopted,  I  can  not  have  the  least  chance  for 
reputation,  nor  those  allowances  made  which 
the  nature  of  the  case  requires;  and  to  be 
told,  on  the  other,  that  if  I  leave  the  service 
all  will  be  lost,  is,  at  the  same  time  that  I 
am  bereft  of  every  peaceful  moment,  distress 
ing  in  a  degree.  But  I  will  be  done  with  the 
subject,  with  the  precaution  to  you  that  it 
is  not  a  fit  one  to  be  publicly  known  or  dis 
cussed." 

156 


Such  was  the  quality  of  this  heart :  to  know  Seven 

its  own  plight  as  clearly  as  that,  but  to  go     ges  ^ 

Washington 

straight  on,  sinking  self,  both  present  and 
future,  in  the  cause.  His  secrecy,  and  the 
inner  state  of  his  mind,  come  before  us  once 
in  a  vividness  so  impressive  that  over  the 
well-known,  oft-told  Delaware  crossing  a 
new  light  is  thrown.  Just  before  that  night, 
when  politics,  when  the  low  state  of  the  army, 
when  the  dearth  of  all  good  news  for  many 
months,  had  at  last  brought  Washington  to 
"put  everything  to  the  cast  of  a  Dye,"  a 
Philadelphia  acquaintance  waited  upon  him. 
"In  December  I  visited  General  Washing 
ton  in  company  with  Col.  Jos.  Reed  at  the 
General's  quarters  about  10  miles  above 
Bristol,  and  four  from  the  Delaware.  I 
spent  a  night  at  a  farm  house  near  to  him  and 
the  next  morning  passed  near  an  hour  with 
him  in  private.  He  appeared  much  depressed 
and  lamented  the  ragged  and  dissolving  state 
of  his  army  in  affecting  terms.  I  gave  him 

T57 


Seven  assurances  of  the  disposition  of  Congress  to 

support   him.    under   his    present   difficulties 

Washington 

and  distresses.  While  I  was  talking  to  him 
I  observed  him  to  play  with  his  pen  and  ink 
upon  several  small  pieces  of  paper.  One 
of  them  by  accident  fell  upon  the  floor  near 
my  feet.  I  was  struck  with  the  inscription 
upon  it.  It  was  'victory  or  death/ 

"On  the  following  evening  I  was  ordered  by 
General  Cadwalader  to  attend  the  Militia 
at  Dunk's  ferry.  An  attempt  was  made  to 
cross  the  Delaware  at  that  place  ...  in 
order  to  co-operate  with  General  Washington 
...  in  an  attack  upon  the  Hessians.  .  .  . 
Floating  ice  rendered  the  passage  of  the  river 
impracticable.  .  .  .  The  next  morning  we 
heard  that  General  Washington  had  been 
more  successful  .  .  .  and  taken  one  thousand 
Hessians.  ...  I  found  that  the  countersign 
of  his  troops  of  the  surprize  of  Trenton  was, 
'Victory  or  Death.'" 

For  "near  an  hour,"  then,  the  Philadelphia 


acquaintance,  Dr.   Benjamin  Rush,  had  sat   Seven 

with  Washington,   assuring  him  of  support,     ^es  ; 

Washington 

and  Washington,  with  his  mind  full  of 
Trenton  that  was  to  happen  in  thirty-six 
hours,  had  sat  listening  (or  perhaps  not 
listening  much)  and  scrawling  on  little 
scraps  of  paper.  Was  f  victory  or  death" 
upon  all  of  them,  or  was  he  writing  various 
countersigns  to  see  how  they  looked  ?  At 
all  events,  there  in  the  three  words  is  his 
secret  mind  before  Trenton,  while  the  visitor 
discoursed  about  Congress;  that  pen-scrib 
bling  is  a  very  striking  instance  of  how, 
when  the  spirit  of  a  man  is  supremely  con 
centrated,  he  will  often  perform  trivial, 
almost  unconscious  acts.  To  one  familiar 
with  the  relations  between  Washington  and 
Dr.  Rush,  it  may  occur  that  these  lay  at  the 
bottom  of  Washington's  silence;  but  this 
would  be  an  error.  Dr.  Rush's  attack  on 
Dr.  Shippen  was  still  to  come  and  to  create 
in  Washington  the  distrust  made  final  by 

159 


Seven  Dr.  Rush's  attack  on  himself  in  the  anonymous 

letter  written  to  Patrick  Henry.     All  that  — 

Washington 

the  face  professions  of  friendship  and  the 
back-hand  stab,  Henry's  loyalty  and  Wash 
ington's  deeply  moved  response  to  it  —  was 
still  more  than  a  year  off,  and  Washington 
would  have  been  silent  to  any  visitor  about 
Trenton,  for  silence  as  to  his  plans  was 
inveterate  with  him. 

His  bright  letter  to  Congress  the  day  after 
Trenton  is  a  marked  change  from  his  dark 
letter  the  day  before  it,  and  in  still  greater 
contrast  with  the  whole  darkness  of  his  mind 
disclosed  to  his  brother  during  that  black 
December,  1776:  "If  every  nerve  is  not 
strained  to  recruit  the  new  army  ...  I 
think  the  game  is  pretty  nearly  up.  ...  How 
ever,  under  a  full  persuasion  of  the  justice 
of  our  cause,  I  can  not  entertain  an  Idea  that 
it  will  finally  sink,  tho'  it  may  remain  for 
some  time  under  a  cloud." 

Von  Moltke,  whose  word  may  be  consid- 

1 60 


ered  as  final  authority,  called  Washington  Seven 
one  of  the  world's  very  greatest  strategists,  J^', 
adding:  "No  finer  movement  was  ever 
executed  than  the  retreat  across  the  Jerseys, 
the  return  across  the  Delaware  a  first  time, 
and  then  a  second,  so  as  to  draw  out  the 
enemy  in  a  long  thin  line."  Genius  usually 
seeks  its  element  as  a  duck  the  water, 
as  Alexander  looked  for  "more  worlds  to 
conquer."  Washington  always  looked  for 
Mount  Vernon,  always  went  back  to  his 
crops  and  his  trees,  made  war  as  a  public 
duty  only;  and  his  military  achievement 
seems  to  be  the  fruit,  not  so  much  of  mili 
tary  genius,  but  of  those  great  powers  and 
qualities  of  firmness,  sagacity,  observation, 
and  detail,  which  he  showed  in  every 
undertaking  either  of  war  or  peace,  and 
of  his  invaluable  training  in  the  Indian 
wars. 

That   constitution,   of  whose    strength   he 
wrote  Dinwiddie  in  the  early  days,  was  called 
M  161 


Seven  upon   to   meet   demands   as   heavy   as   those 

upon  his  mind ;  —  after  the  defeat  on  Long 
Washington 

Island,  for  instance,  he  was  on  horseback 
during  the  greater  part  of  forty-eight  hours, 
and  his  ability  to  laugh  uproariously  some 
times  must  have  been  an  excellent,  if  rare, 
relief  for  him.  General  Putnam  provided 
one  great  chance  for  it  during  the  Boston 
winter,  while  several  treacheries  were  being 
unearthed.  Of  one  of  these  they  found  the 
missing  link  at  quite  a  serious  crisis,  when  the 
hiding  of  our  lack  of  powder  was  near  being 
ruined  by  spies.  y  The  missing  link  turned 
out  to  be  a  large  fat  woman,  and  so  trium 
phant  and  eager  was  large  fat  Putnam  to 
bring  her  quickly  to  headquarters,  that  he 
clapped  her  a-straddle  in  front  of  him  on 
his  horse.  Washington,  looking  out  of  an 
upper  window,  saw  this  sight  approaching, 
-an  important  Puritan  General  apparently 
bearing  the  spoils  of  war  brazenly  before  all 
eyes  —  and  it  is  said  that  he  was  entirely 
162 


overcome,  but  had  mastered  his  gravity  by  Seven 
the  time  the  missing  link  was  deposited  in  jf^, 
his  presence  by  her  assiduous  and  innocent 
captor.  In  the  midst  of  matters  so  few  of 
which  are  laughing  matters,  it  would  be  agree 
able  to  tell  and  dwell  upon  every  instance  of 
Washington's  mirth;  but  the  knowledge 
must  be  enough,  that  he  could  and  did  laugh, 
and  that  the  incident  of  the  fat  woman  is  not 
the  solitary  jet  of  hilarity  whose  radiance 
twinkles  in  that  dusk.^  Of  the  dearth  of 
powder  in  one  instance  an  idea  may  be 
had  by  this :  owing  to  a  mistake  in  the  report 
of  the  Massachusetts  committee,  instead  of 
four  hundred  and  eighty-five  quarter  casks 
of  powder,  there  were  only  thirty-five  half 
barrels,  or  not  a  half  a  pound  to  a  man.  It 
is  recorded  that  when  Washington  heard  this, 
he  did  not  utter  a  word  for  half  an  hour. 
But  presently  in  the  midst  of  more  trials  we 
find  him  quoting  poetry,  philosophically: 
"I  will  not  lament  or  repine  .  .  .  because 

163 


Seven  I     am    in    a    great    measure    a    convert    to 

Mr.    Pope's    opinion,    that    whatever    is,    is 

Washington 

right.  ..." 

To  quote  poetry,  or  make  any  literary 
allusion,  is  so  rare  a  thing  with  him  in  his 
letters,  that  an  instance  of  it  is  always  a 
slight  surprise.  He  writes  to  young  Custis 
at  his  schooling,  "For,  as  Shakespeare  says, 
'He  that  robs  me  of  my  good  name  enriches 
not  himself,  but  renders  me  poor  indeed/ 
or  words  to  that  effect."  In  another  place 
he  serves  himself  of  Hamlet  with  "in  my 
mind's  eye."  He  several  times  uses  "under 
the  rose,"  and  all  these  seem  natural,  save 
for  their  great  scarcity.  But  it  is  quite 
astonishing  to  come  upon  "in  petto"  and 
one  comes  upon  it  only  once.  He  seems 
fond  of  the  word  "maugre,"  already  archaic 
in  his  day,  and  one  wonders  where  he  got  it; 
but  there  is  one  phrase  he  uses  with  such 
evident  relish,  and  so  repeatedly,  that  to 
omit  the  instances  here  would  be  to  lose  not 


only   an    interesting   little  fact  of   his    style,   Seven 


but  a  sign  of  something  deep  in  the  man.     It     £**.. 

Washington 

is  at  one  of  the  deeply  disheartening  hours 
of  the  war  that  he  writes  George  Mason  from 
Middlebrook,  27  March,  1779:  "I  have  seen 
without  despondency  even  for  a  moment  .  .  . 
the  hours  which  America  have  stiled  her 
gloomy  ones,  but  I  have  beheld  no  day  since 
the  commencement  of  hostilities  that  I  have 
thought  her  liberties  in  such  eminent  danger 
as  at  present.  .  .  .  Why  do  they  not  come 
forth  to  save  their  Country  ?  let  this  voice 
my  dear  Sir  call  upon  you  —  Jefferson 
and  others  —  do  not  from  a  mistaken  opin 
ion  that  we  are  about  to  set  down  under  our 
own  vine,  &  our  own  fig  tree,  let  our  hitherto 
noble  struggle  end  in  ignom'y  —  believe 
me  when  I  tell  you  there  is  danger  of  it  — 
I  have  pretty  good  reasons  for  thinking  that 
Administration  a  little  while  ago  had  re 
solved  to  give  the  matter  up,  and  negociate 
a  peace  with  us  upon  almost  any  terms; 

165 


Seven  but  I  shall  be  much  mistaken  if  they  do  not   | 

now  from  the  present  state  of  our  currency 

W  asnington  J 

and  dissensions  &  other  circumstances  push 
matters  to  the  utmost  extremity.  ..."  In 
that  ringing  appeal,  the  pet  phrase  appears 
for  the  first  time,  it  would  seem.  And  now, 
let  the  others  come :  — 

(To  Oliver  Wolcott.)  "...  but  if  ever 
this  happens,  it  must  be  under  my  own 
vine  and  fig-tree." 

(To  David  Humphreys.)  "...  but  neither 
came  to  hand  until  long  after  I  had 
left  the  chair  of  Government,  and  was 
seated  in  the  shade  of  my  own  Vine  and 
Figtree." 

(To  Lafayette.)  "...  With  what  con 
cerns  myself  personally,  I  shall  not  take  up 
your  time  further  than  to  add,  that  I  have 
once  more  retreated  to  the  shades  of  my  own 
vine  and  fig  Tree." 

(To  Mrs.  Sarah  Fairfax.)  "Worn  out  in 
a  manner  by  the  toils  of  my  past  labor,  1 
1 66 


am    again    seated    under    my   vine    and    fig-   Seven 
tree  "  Ages  °f 

*"  *•  ^  Trr       i  • 

Washington 
(To  John  Adams.)    "It  is  unnecessary,  I 

hope,  for  me  in  that  event  to  express  the 
satisfaction  it  will  give  Mrs.  Washington  and 
me  to  see  Mrs.  Adams  and  yourself,  and 
company  in  the  shade  of  our  vine  and  fig- 


tree." 


(To  J.  Q.  Adams.)  "I  am  now  as  you 
supposed  the  case  would  be  when  you  then 
wrote,  seated  under  the  shade  of  my  Vine 
and  Fig-tree." 

We  may  smile,  but  what  a  pathos  is  in 
these  reiterations !  They  all  belong  to  his 
last  years  at  Mount  Vernon. 

One  other  locution  seems  to  have  pleased 
him,  and  of  its  several  appearances  we  give 
but  one,  from  a  letter  to  Charles  Cotesworth 
Pinckney:  "P.S.  —  Mr.  Lewis  and  Nelly 
Custis  fulfilled  their  matrimonial  engagement 
on  the  22nd  of  February.  In  consequence 
the  former,  having  relinquished  the  Lapp  of 

167 


Seven  Mars  for  the  sports  of  Venus,  has  declined 

A^?3  f         a  Military  appointment." 

Washington 

Scattered  through  his  letters  during  the 
period  of  the  Revolution,  we  come  upon 
various  apologies  for  real  or  seeming  neglect 
in  hospitality,  or  cordiality  —  for  failures, 
in  short,  to  show  people  the  attention  which 
they  had  the  right  to  expect;  in  these  apolo 
gies  he  mentions,  among  other  things,  the 
weight  of  his  correspondence.  As  much  as 
he  could  he  used  secretaries,  giving  them 
memorandums,  sketched  quickly  in  his  own 
handsome  hand,  with  many  abbreviations: 
"The  time  of  my  arrival --The  situation  of 
the  Troops  —  Works  —  &  things  in  general 
—  Enemy  on  Bunkers  Hill.  .  .  .  Express 
gratitude  for  the  rediness  wch.  the  Congress 
&  diff.  Committees  have  shown  to  make 
everything  as  convenient  and  agreeable 
as  possible.  .  .  ."  But  of  course  he  could 
not  use  secretaries  for  everything.  His  brill 
iant  contemporaries  and  colleagues  not  seldom 
168 


shook  their  heads  solemnly  over  his  writings ;   Seven 

but  they  need  not  have  done  so.     They  did     ^es  °* 

Washington 

so  because  his  sagacity  and  moral  weight  so 
stood  out  during  these  distracting  times 
that  such  gifted  men  as  Jefferson  and  Ham 
ilton  fell  dupe  to  a  very  human  instinct  — 
they  wanted  to  find  something  which  they 
could  do  better  than  he  could,  and  they 
picked  out  his  English  style.  They  were 
quite  mistaken.  While  these  collateral 
fathers  of  the  country  could  spell  words 
better  than  Washington,  use  words  better 
they  could  not.  No  better  prose  than  his 
was  written,  when  he  took  time  to  it.  There 
are  periods  during  the  war  (and  periods 
afterward)  when  controlled  passion  or  deep 
concern  causes  his  language  to  reach  the 
highest  level  of  expression  and  dignity. 
During  the  Conway  Cabal,  in  his  papers 
public  and  private  the  style  rises  so  that 
it  would  be  hard  to  find  writing  to  sur 
pass  it.  Specimens  are  too  long  to  quote, 
169 


Seven  but  they  are  easy  to  find  in  the  sixth  volume 

4£«  rf         Of    m's    correspondence     (edited     by    Ford), 

Washington 

where  the  reader  may  look  especially  at  a 
letter  to  Gates,  page  362,  and  one  to  Bryan 
Fairfax,  page  389.  For  the  lesson  to  political 
manners  of  to-day  that  it  contains,  we  quote 
this  fragment  from  the  same  volume.  "If 
General  Conway  means,  by  cool  receptions, 
mentioned  in  the  last  paragraph  of  his  letter 
of  the  3 ist  ultimo,  that  I  did  not  receive  him 
in  the  language  of  a  warm  and  cordial 
friend,  I  readily  confess  the  charge.  I  did 
not,  nor  shall  I  ever,  till  I  am  capable  of  the 
arts  of  dissimulation.  These  I  despise,  and 
my  feelings  will  not  permit  me  to  make 
professions  of  friendship  to  the  man  I  deem 
my  enemy,  and  whose  system  of  conduct 
forbids  it."  Conway  was  at  last  run  to 
earth,  and  his  tendered  resignation  was 
accepted  when  he  did  not  mean  it  to  be. 
This  so  disconcerted  him  that  he  wrote  saying 
hjs  language  had  been  misconstrued:  "I 
170 


am  an  Irishman,"  he  protests,  "and  learnt  Seven 

my   English   in   France."     This   is   probably     ges  * 

Washington 

our  only  heritage  of  pure  gayety  from  the 
whole  contemptible  business,  in  which  certain 
professed  friends  cut  so  poor  a  figure,  and 
Lafayette,  Richard  Henry  Lee,  and  Patrick 
Henry  shine  so  brightly.  We  close  this 
brief  account  of  Washington's  prose  style 
with  one  final  sentence  to  show  both  his  own 
modesty  on  this  head,  and  how  needless 
such  modesty  was :  — 

"When  I  look  back  to  the  length  of  this 
letter,  I  am  so  much  astonished  and  frightened 
at  it  myself  that  I  have  not  the  courage  to  give 
it  a  careful  reading  for  the  purpose  of  cor 
rections.  You  must,  therefore,  receive  it  with 
all  its  imperfections,  accompanied  with  this 
assurance,  that,  though  there  may  be  in 
accuracies  in  the  letter,  there  is  not  a  single 
defect  in  the  friendship." 

His  whole  bitterness  over  the  Conway  Ca 
bal  is  contained  in  one  sentence  written  to 
171 


Seven  Governor  Livingston,  but  omitted  from   the 

*g"  °f         second  draft  of  the  letter.    «With  manv    it 
Washington  J 

is  a  sufficient  cause  to  ...  wish  the  ruin  of 

a  man,  because  he  has  been  happy  enough  to 
be  the  object  of  bis  country's  favor."  He 
underlined  the  words  himself,  and  this,  with 
the  subsequent  omission  of  the  whole,  shows 
in  a  stroke  his  feelings  and  his  reticence. 
We  have  another  graphic  instance  of  character 
in  two  notes  written  General  Howe  on  the 
same  day,  concerning  the  shorter  of  which  the 
Chevalier  de  Pontgibaud  gives  the  following 
account:  — 

"The  British,  occupied  in  the  pleasures 
which  they  found  in  Philadelphia,  allowed 
us  to  pass  the  winter  in  tranquillity;  they 
never  spoke  of  the  camp  at  Valley  Forges, 
except  to  joke  about  it,  and  we  for  our  part 
might  almost  have  forgotten  that  we  were 
in  the  presence  of  an  enemy  if  we  had  not 
received  a  chance  visitor.  We  were  at  table 
at  headquarters  —  that  is  to  say  in  the  mill, 
172 


which  was  comfortable  enough  —  one  day,  Seven 
when  a  fine  sporting  dog,  which  was  evidently  £•  JL  ton 
lost,  came  to  ask  for  some  dinner.  On  its 
collar  were  the  words,  General  Howe.  It 
was  the  British  Commander's  dog.  It  was 
sent  back  under  a  flag  of  truce,  and  General 
Howe  replied  by  a  warm  letter  of  thanks  to 
this  act  of  courtesy  on  the  part  of  his  enemy, 
our  general."  This  was  Washington's  note 
to  Howe:  "General  Washington's  compli 
ments  to  General  Howe,  —  does  himself 
the  pleasure  to  return  him  a  dog,  which 
accidentally  fell  into  his  hands,  and,  by  the 
inscription  on  the  collar,  appears  to  belong 
to  General  Howe."  The  official  one  that  was 
written  on  the  same  day,  October  6,  1777? 
concerning  depredations  attributed  to  Amer 
icans  and  done  by  British,  contains  language 
severely  different,  and  would  give  no  hint  of 
dogs  and  flags  of  truce:  Washington  the 
commander,  writing  to  Howe  the  commander, 
was  one  thing;  Washington  the  courteous 


Seven  lover  of  sport,  writing  to  Howe  the  owner 

of  a  lost  dog,  was  another. 

Washington 

The  Chevalier  de  Pontgibaud  errs,  as  the 
reader  will  have  perceived,  as  to  the  place 
where  this  happened,  for  they  were  not  at 
Valley  Forge  so  early  as  October,  and  it  was 
"near  Pennibecker's  Mill"  -the  Chevalier 
is  right  about  there  being  a  mill,  and  the  fact 
that  at  Valley  Forge  there  was  also  a  mill 
is  what  probably  led  to  this  immaterial  con 
fusion.  Washington's  note  proves  the  ac 
curacy  of  the  story,  and  the  following 
anecdotes  also  narrated  by  de  Pontgibaud 
are  as  vivid,  and  may  equally  be  ac 
cepted,  whether  they  occurred  at  "Valley 
Forges,"  as  he  called  it,  or  not  exactly 
there. 

"One  day  we  were  at  dinner  at  head 
quarters;  an  Indian  entered  the  room, 
walked  round  the  table,  and  seized  a  large 
joint  of  hot  roast  beef.  We  were  all  much 
surprised,  but  General  Washington  gave 

174 


orders  that  he  was  not  to  be  interfered  with,  Seven 
saying  laughingly,  that  it  was  apparently 
the  dinner  hour  of  this  Mutius  Scaevola 
of  the  New  World.  On  another  occasion 
a  chief  came  into  the  room  where  our  Gen 
erals  were  holding  a  council  of  war.  Wash 
ington,  who  was  tall  and  very  strong,  rose, 
coolly  took  the  Indian  by  the  shoulders,  and 
put  him  outside  the  door." 

It  may  be  that  the  degrading  dissensions, 
incompetences,  and  dishonesties  of  Congress 
reached,  about  the  Valley  Forge  period,  a 
low-water  mark  that  they  never  surpassed  in 
war  time  (in  peace  time  later,  they  did); 
but  however  that  is,  it  can  scarce  too  much  be 
insisted  that  our  Revolution  was  not  a  sort 
of  flawless  architectural  fabric,  made  wholly 
of  colonial  pillars  and  patriotism,  but  that  it 
had  a  sordid,  squalid  back-door  and  prem 
ises,  of  which  Gouverneur  Morris  writes 
Washington:  "Had  our  Saviour  addressed 
a  Chapter  to  the  Rulers  of  Mankind  ...  I 

'75 


Seven  am    persuaded    his   good    sense   would   have 

dictated  this  text — be  not  wise  overmuch.  .  .  . 

Washington 

The  most  precious  moments  pass  unheeded 
away  like  vulgar  Things/'  Such  is  a  gentle 
way  of  putting  it;  but  hearken  now  to  the 
anything  but  gentle  Washington  :  — 

(To  James  Warren,  31  March,  1779.) 
"The  measure  of  iniquity  is  not  yet  filled 
.  .  .  Speculation,  Peculation  .  .  .  afford 
.  .  .  glaring  instances  of  its  being  the  inter 
est  ...  of  too  many  ...  to  continue  the 
war.  .  .  .  Shall  a  few  designing  men  ...  to 
gratify  their  own  avarice,  overset  the  goodly 
fabric  we  have  been  rearing  at  the  expense  of 
so  much  time,  blood,  &  treasure  ?  And  shall 
we  at  last  become  the  victims  of  our  own 
abominable  lust  of  gain  ?  Forbid  it  Heaven  ! 
Forbid  it  all  &  every  State  in  the  Union ! 
.  .  .  Our  cause  is  noble.  It  is  the  cause 
of  mankind.  ..." 

If  absolutely  nothing  from  his  letters  were 
collected  save  passages  devoted  to  the  polit- 


ical    iniquities,   such   passages    would    make   Seven 

a  volume;    so  would  the  passages  asking  for     f 

Washington 

powder,  and  so  those  asking  for  food  and 
clothing,  and  a  fourth  could  be  filled  with  his 
protests  against  short  enlistments,  by  reason 
of  which  his  army  was  constantly  dissolving 
in  his  hands.  A  Harvard  degree,  and  a 
medal  from  Congress  (in  one  of  its  more 
amiable  and  coherent  moods)  could  not  have 
gone  very  far  to  compensate  him  for  what  he 
was  enduring. 

"General  Fry,  that  wonderful  man,  has 
made  a  most  wonderful  hand  of  it.  ...  He 
has  drawn  three  hundred  and  seventy  five 
dollars,  never  done  one  day's  duty,  scarce 
been  three  times  out  of  his  home.  ...  I 
have  made  a  pretty  good  slam  among  such 
kind  of  officers  .  .  .  having  broke  one  Colo, 
and  two  Captains  for  cowardly  behavior  .  .  . 
two  Captains  for  drawing  more  provisions 
and  pay  than  they  had  men  .  .  .  and  one 
for  being  absent  from  his  post  when  the  enemy 


Seven  appeared.  .  .  .      Different     regiments    were 

wLhin  to  uPon  tne  Pomt  °f  cutting  each  other's  throats 
for  a  few  standing  locusts  near  their  encamp 
ment,  to  dress  their  victuals  with  ...  it 
will  be  very  difficult  to  prevail  on  them  to 
remain  a  moment  longer  than  they  choose 
themselves.  .  .  .  Such  a  dearth  of  public 
spirit  ...  I  never  saw  before  .  .  .  and  pray 
God  I  may  never  be  witness  to  again.  .  .  . 
The  Connecticut  troops  will  be  prevailed 
upon  to  stay  no  longer  than  their  terms.  .  .  . 
Could  I  have  forseen  what  I  have,  and  am 
likely  to  experience,  no  consideration  upon 
earth  should  have  induced  me  to  accept  this 
command  .  .  .  but  we  must  bear  up  ... 
and  make  the  best  of  mankind  as  they  are, 
since  we  can  not  have  them  as  we  wish." 
This  last  philosophical  sentence,  it  will  be 
remembered,  he  wrote  his  friend  General 
Schuyler,  and  it  is  a  thought  we  come  upon 
several  times.  Thus,  after  blowing  off  his 
just  rage,  would  he  reenter  the  splendid 


poise  of  his  staying-power.     It  is  exhilarating  Seven 

to  find  him  taking  a  "good  slam"  with  his  Ages  °f 

Washington 

muscles  also  on  a  certain  occasion.  He  rode 
into  camp  suddenly  upon  a  fist  fight,  begun 
with  mere  snow-balling,  between  some  newly 
arrived  Virginians  and  some  New  England 
men.  Such  a  fight  was  of  vital  menace  to 
the  army,  full  of  northern  and  southern 
jealousies.  He  leaped  from  his  horse, 
took  two  Virginians  by  their  throats, 
and  shook  them  in  such  fashion,  talking 
the  while,  that  in  a  very  few  moments 
he  and  they  were  the  only  people  left  in 
sight. 

No  excess  of  investigation  (and  there  can 
be  such  a  thing)  would  enable  us  to  put  our 
finger  upon  the  moment  of  the  lowest  ebb 
of  Washington's  staying-power  during  this 
war  of  rags  and  starvation.  There  were 
several  moments  of  very  low  ebb ;  but  tradi 
tion  hands  one  down  from  Valley  Forge, 
connected  with  a  white-handled  pen-knife, 
179 


Seven  upon  which  small  instrument  the  fortunes  of 

America  would    seem   during    that    moment 

Washington 

to  have  hung.  Together  with  a  clock,  whose 
hands  were  stopped  by  an  attending  physi 
cian  in  Washington's  bedroom  as  he  ex 
pired,'  and  which  have  marked  that  hour  ever 
since,  this  white-handled  pen-knife  is  treas 
ured  in  the  Masonic  museum  at  Alexandria, 
and  was  given  to  Washington  by  his  mother 
when  he  was  about  fifteen  years  old.  It 
will  be  remembered  that,  but  for  her,  he 
would  have  entered  the  navy  in  1746.  His 
brother  Lawrence  had  obtained  for  him  a 
midshipman's  warrant,  but  it  had  gone  much 
further  than  that;  the  boy's  kit  had  been 
carried  aboard,  and  he  was  himself  on  the 
point  of  following  it,  when  a  messenger 
from  his  mother  overtook  him,  and  brought 
him  her  final  word,  so  imploring,  or  so  per 
emptory  —  tradition  says  not  which  —  that 
he  abandoned  his  project,  and  went  home  — 
back  to  more  school  and  mathematics,  as 
1 80 


has   been   related   early   in   these   pages.     In   Seven 


the  next  order  for  supplies  that  his  mother     ^es  °* 

Washington 

sent  to  England,  she  asked  for  a  "good  pen 
knife."  This,  when  it  came,  she  gave  to  the 
boy  in  token  of  his  recent  signal  submission 
to  her,  adding,  "Always  obey  your  supe 
riors."  He  carried  the  token  all  his  life,  and 
to  some  of  his  intimates  he  from  time  to  time 
explained  its  significance.  One  day  at  Valley 
Forge,  when  the  more  than  half-naked  men 
had  eaten  no  meat  for  many  days,  and  when 
Congress  had  failed  once  more  to  provide, 
or  even  to  suggest  any  way  for  getting,  food 
and  clothes,  the  ebb  was  reached,  and  Wash 
ington  wrote  his  resignation  as  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  army.  Among  the  generals 
sitting  in  council,  Henry  Knox  spoke  out, 
reminding  him  of  the  pen-knife,  and  upon 
Washington's  asking  what  that  had  to  do  with 
it,  he  said:  "You  were  always  to  obey  your 
superiors.  You  were  commanded  to  lead 
this  army.  No  one  has  commanded  you  to 
181 


Seven  cease  leading  it."     Washington  paused,  and 

then  answered,  "There  is  something  in  that. 

Washington 

I  will  think  it  over."     Half  an  hour  later,  he 
tore  his  resignation  to  pieces. 

The  rumor  of  what  he  said  and  what  he  did 
through  all  these  hours  of  struggle  and  des 
peration,  spread  wide  and  far  from  the  centre 
of  them,  spread  across  the  seas,  spread  to  all 
distant  corners  of  travel,  and  the  blunt  remark 
of  a  Scotchman  in  Key  West  bears  witness  to 
what  was  thought  of  him  by  enemies  of  his 
cause.  News  had  come  that  Washington  was 
captured,  and  the  Scot  was  sorry  to  hear  of  this, 
"for  he  is  too  gude  a  mon  to  be  hangit,"  he 
said,  feeling  sure  this  would  be  the  prisoner's 
fate.  His  renown  rose  to  a  new  height  in 
that  passage  of  diplomacy  that  he  had  with 
Lord  Howe  over  the  manner  in  which  he 
should  be  styled  in  letters  by  the  British 
commander;  after  he  had  sent  back  a  com 
munication  addressed* "To  George  Washing 
ton  Esqre,"  and  a  second,  where  the  point  was 

182 


still  dodged,  "To  George  Washington  Esqre.   Seven 

&c.  &c.  &c.,"  Congress  thanked  him  for  thus 

Washington 

asserting  his  dignity,  and  further  resolved  that 
they  "have  such  entire  confidence  in  his  judg 
ment  .  .  .  they  will  give  him  no  particular 
directions."  American  dignity  is  not  in 
variably  so  well  guarded  by  its  soldiers,  or 
understood  by  its  civilians.  As  for  the 
"entire  confidence"  of  Congress,  that  short- 
winded  affair  soon  gave  out  —  it  spent  its 
time  in  giving  out  and  reviving;  —  presently 
this  "entire  confidence"  was  near  shifting 
to  Gates,  and  soon  after  Gates  had  blown 
over  came  what  may  have  been  the  heaviest 
blow,  personally,  that  Washington  sustained 
—  Arnold's  treason.  About  this,  when  he 
learned  it,  Washington  remarked,  simply 
and  quietly:  "Whom  can  we  trust  now?" 
Arnold  had  been  a  gallant  fighter,  in  fact,  a 
brilliant  fighter,  and  Washington  and  others 
(John  Adams,  for  instance)  were  of  opinion 
that  his  services  had  met  poor  recognition; 

183 


Seven  thus,  when  the  bottom  falseness  of  his  nature 

was  revealed  suddenly,  it  was  for  a  moment 

Washington 

•^i  overwhelming.  From  such  experiences  he  got 
the  habit  of  feeding  upon  all  good  news  that 
came,  and  making  the  most  possible  of  this, 
and  the  least  possible  of  ill  news;  but  if  good 
news  had  been  his  only  nourishment,  he  would 
often  have  starved,  and  the  truth  is,  he  fed 
upon  his  own  inexhaustible  determination, 
becoming  at  times  in  the  general  dearth  of 
money,  food,  clothing,  and  powder,  himself 
the  only  sinews  of  war  that  we  possessed. 
Yet,  with  this  fortitude,  he  wept  like  a  child 
when  he  saw,  across  the  Hudson,  his  soldiers 
being  bayoneted.  In  some  actions  he  so 
recklessly  forgot  himself,  that  they  seized 
his  bridle  and  led  him  away  from  needless 
exposure.  It  seems,  too,  that  he  was  im 
prudent  (certainly  once)  in  cold  blood. 
Shortly  before  Brandywine,  he  was  recon 
noitring  the  country  near  Wilmington,  with 
Greene  and  Lafayette.  They  had  ridden  all 
184 


day,  and  night  came,  and  with  night  a  storm,   Seven 

from  the  fury  of  which  they  sought  shelter  in     f 

J  Washington 

a  farm-house.  The  enemy  was  everywhere, 
likely  to  capture  them  at  any  moment,  and 
this  Washington  knew;  but  nothing  that 
Greene  or  Lafayette  said  could  induce  him 
to  budge.  He  stayed  on,  immovably,  and 
to  their  dismay  stayed  all  night.  As  they 
rode  away  in  the  morning,  he  candidly  agreed 
that  this  had  been  most  unwise  and  danger 
ous  !  We  can  only  guess  at  what  made  him 
do  such  a  thing.  Probably  he  was  dog-tired, 
and  found  the  rain  very  wet,  and  the  fire  very 
dry  and  pleasant,  and  told  himself  that  no 
body  would  be  looking  for  him  in  such  a 
storm,  or  that  if  they  did,  he  would  kill  them. 
Or  perhaps  he  told  himself  nothing  at  all 
beyond  that  he  would  not  budge  from  the 
fire  and  the  house  till  morning,  let  Greene 
and  Lafayette  protest  as  they  would.  Upon 
an  occasion  very  similar  to  this,  and  at  about 
the  same  period  of  the  war,  we  have  his  own 

185 


Seven  word    for   his    fatigue   when    he    stopped    at 

night-fall  again  at  a  house  in  this  same  tract 
Washington 

of  country.  It  is  handed  down  by  the  de 
scendants  of  this  house,  that  one  of  its  daugh 
ters,  then  a  little  girl,  was  all  curiosity  and 
excitement  upon  learning  who  it  was  that  her 
elders  were  harboring.  She  begged  hard  for 
a  sight  of  the  great  visitor,  and  she  had  her 
wish.  "Well,  my  dear/*  said  the  general, 
"you  see  a  very  tired  man  in  a  very  dirty  shirt." 

. Since  a  tale  of  Washington  incautious  has 

been  told,  let  it  be  set  off  by  one  showing  the 
shrewd  wiles  of  that  strategy  for  which  he 
earned  his  name  of  "The  Old  Fox,"  from 
those  whom  he  so  constantly  outwitted. 
During  the  Morristown  winter,  when  the 
army  was  all  but  gone  to  nothing  —  some 
three  thousand  men  were  the  whole  of  it  — 
it  was  discovered  a  spy  from  Howe  in  New 
York  was  in  the  camp.  Washington  gave 
orders  that  he  should  be  warmly  treated,  as 
if  taken  into  friendship  and  confidence; 
186 


he    also    ordered    all    his    colonels    to    make   Seven 

false    returns    of   their    regiments'    strength.     „  ,. 

Washington 

These  papers,  reporting  twelve  thousand  men 
on  duty,  were  left  in  very  accessible  pigeon 
holes  in  the  adjutant's  office.  One  day,  while 
the  spy  was  chatting  with  the  adjutant,  a  mes 
sage  came  from  the  commander  requesting  to 
see  the  adjutant  at  once.  Thus  carefully  left 
alone  in  the  room,  the  spy  punctually  per 
formed  the  trick  he  was  intended  to  perform, 
got  at  the  reports,  read  them  through  (com 
fortable  time  for  this  was  allowed  him),  and 
went  off  happy  to  Howe  in  New  York  with 
the  official  figures  of  Washington's  strength 
-  twelve  thousand.  Soon  after  this  another 
spy  came,  a  young  officer,  who  discovered  the 
truth,  and  returned  to  Howe  with  it.  But 
he  was  not  believed;  had  not  his  predecessor 
secured  the  official  figures  ?  Not  only  was  he 
discredited,  but  severely  treated  for  being 
so  incompetent  and  dangerous  a  spy. 
So  Washington  was  not  caught  at  Morris- 


Seven  town,   or   at    the   farm-house,   or    anywhere, 

and   amid   rags   and   starvation  brought  the 

Washington 

war  through ;  hindered  by  a  host  of  difficulties, 
helped  by  many  things  —  brave  generals,  patri 
otic  civilians,  devoted  soldiers,  and  not  a  little 
by  the  Whig  party  in  England ;  but  most  of  all 
by  the  huge  shoulders  of  his  own  endurance. 
How  did  his  face  look  at  the  end  of  it 
that  noon  in  New  York  at  a  tavern  down  by 
the  Whitehall  Ferry,  the  4th  of  December, 
1783  ?  He  was  there  to  say  good-by  to  his 
assembled  generals,  privately,  among  them 
selves,  before  starting  for  Congress  to  resign 
his  commission.  A  boat  waited  to  take 
him  over  the  river  on  his  way  to  Annapolis. 
In  that  tavern,  Fraunce's  Tavern,  his  generals 
had  gathered,  —  Knox,  and  the  rest  of  those 
dear  to  him.  The  sight  of  these  brothers- 
at-arms,  as  he  entered  the  room,  deprived 
him  of  utterance;  again  he  stood  in  that 
overcome  silence  that  the  house  of  Burgesses 
had  known  in  him  long  ago,  but  it  was  not 
1 88 


any  more  the  young,  blushing,  brown-haired   Seven 

Washington.     His  back  was  not  bent  with  the 

Washington 

load  carried  since  July  3,  1775,  and  never 
set  down;  but  he  had  looked  upon  much 
death,  much  need,  much  distress,  and  he 
had  known  disloyalty,  ingratitude,  and  treason 
once,  in  the  likeness  of  a  trusted  fellow-soldier, 
during  that  long  journey.  Benedict  Arnold 
cannot  have  failed  to  drive  something  into 
Washington's  soul  that  was  not  there  before, 
and  now,  in  the  tavern  room  with  those  who  had 
gone  through  so  much  with  him,  what  sort  of 
face  did  he  turn  upon  these  comrades  ?  It  must 
have  been  a  face  of  many  memories.  He  filled 
a  glass  of  wine  and  drank  them  his  farewell. 
"I  cannot  come  to  each  of  you  to  take  my 
leave,"  he  said,  "but  shall  be  obliged  if  each 
of  you  will  come  and  take  me  by  the  hand." 
No  word  was  spoken  after  that.  Each  took 
him  by  the  hand,  and  then  all  went  down  to 
the  shore  with  him.  There  they  stood  watch 
ing,  until  the  boat  took  him  from  their  sight. 
189 


VI.    THE   PRESIDENT 


PORTRAIT  OF  WASHINGTON   BY  SAVAGE,   1789-1790 
Reproduced  by  the  courtesy  of  Harvard  University 


3OAVA3  Yfl    MOTOM1H8AW 
to  yzshuoo  t>iii  yd 


VI 

HE  seems  to  have  counted  himself  now  a  Seven 

man  whose  hard  work  was  done,  whose  rest     *'*  °f 

Washington 
was  come,  a  private  man,  for  whom  his  vine 

and  fig-tree  were  at  last  in  store;  he  seems 
not  in  the  least  to  have  suspected  that  the 
new  country  had  further  need  of  him,  and 
he  turned  his  face  with  relief  to  Mount 
Vernon.  The  war  had  used  his  body  hard; 
indeed,  his  accidental  allusion,  in  a  very 
dangerous  moment  for  him  and  the  country, 
to  his  impaired  eyesight  had  saved  the  critical 
situation.  Between  Yorktown  and  the  sign 
ing  of  the  peace,  the  much-enduring  army 
thought  it  was  time  for  at  least  a  little  pay, 
but  Congress,  no  longer  quite  so  frightened 
as  in  the  days  when  it  had  fled  from 
the  enemy's  approach,  preached  sermons  of 


Seven  resignation,    and    suggested    that    the    men 

ir  L;L  placed  too  high  a  value  upon  mere  leaving 
their  homes  and  giving  their  lives.  It  was  an 
incautious  hour  to  choose  for  so  pious  a  lec 
ture;  to  the  men's  angry  minds  it  occurred 
that  there  were  not  many  steps  to  march 
between  themselves  and  the  control  of  the 
Government,  and  they  talked  of  their  be 
loved  leader  as  Dictator.  Washington's  words 

o 

quickly  burst  such  a  bubble  —  but  this  did 
not  stop  the  mutinous  spirit,  and  Congress, 
terrified  once  again  by  an  army,  once  again 
had  none  save  Washington  to  look  to  for  the 
safety  of  its  skin.  It  was  a  last  chance  for  the 
intriguing  Gates  to  rise  from  the  discredit 
of  his  defeat  at  Camden,  and  he  played  it  to 
the  limit.  His  underhand  counsels  to  the 
men  that  their  cause  was  just;  (which  it  most 
assuredly  was)  and  that  they  must  demand 
their  rights,  led  them  to  open  sedition,  and 
there  was  Washington  where  Gates  wished 
him  to  be,  of  necessity  protecting  the  Govern- 
194 


ment  which  was  in  the  wrong,  and  opposing  Seven 

the  men  who  loved  him,  and  who  knew  the     £   ,. 

.   x '  Washington 

Government  was  wrong.  ^There  was  an 
hour  set  for  him  to  meet  them,  and  silence, 
instead  of  shouts,  was  their  greeting  to  him. 
He  had  a  written  address  prepared,  but  on 
rising  to  begin  it,  the  text  was  dim  to  his  eyes, 
and  as  he  felt  for  his  glasses  in  that  moment 
during  which  his  own  influence  and  perhaps 
the  country's  fate  trembled,  he  spoke  simply 
to  the  gathered  and  sullen  soldiers  the  first 
words  that  came  to  him:  "I  have  not  only 
grown  gray  but  blind  in  your  service."  By 
this  unpremeditated  touch  of  nature  the  whole 
trouble  was  melted  away,  the  formal  address 
was  needless,  tears  came  to  the  men's  cheeks, 
and  they  were  willing  to  be  patient  for  their 
leader's  sake.  ^x 

To  Mount  Vernon,  then,  he  turned  with 
his  gray  hairs  and  weakened  sight,  reaching 
there  on  Christmas  eve,  "to  spend  the  re 
mainder  of  my  days,"  he  wrote,  "in  cultivat- 

195 


Seven  ing  the  affections  of  good  men,  and  in  the 

practice    of    the    domestic    virtues.  A 

Washington 

glass  of  wine  and  a  bit  of  mutton  are  always 
ready  .  .  .  those  who  expect  more  will  be 
disappointed."  He  presently  revisited  the 
trails  of  his  youth,  the  backwoods,  returning 
thence  to  the  pastoral  home  existence  that  he 
supposed  he  was  now  free  to  enjoy.  His 
daily  rising  was  before  the  light,  his  corre 
spondence  done  by  the  half-past  seven  break 
fast,  after  which  he  rode  over  his  fields  until 
the  half-past  two  dinner;  this  was  followed 
by  writing  or  by  whist  until  dark.  A  guest 
speaks  of  his  agreeableness,  his  delighting  in 
anecdotes  and  adventures,  silent  upon  all 
personal  exploits;  but  Miss  Custis  saw 
another  side,  and  described  him  as  being 
constantly  thoughtful  and  silent,  with  lips 
moving.  Nothing  said  about  him  by  any 
one  at  any  time  so  conveys  his  inward  iso 
lation  —  inevitable  consequence  of  a  great 
man's  moral  and  mental  load  —  as  this 

i96 


report    of    the    moving    lips.     The    money   Seven 

Congress  now  offered  as  reward  for  his  ser-     ges  * 

Washington 

vices  he  declined,  although  his  fortune  was 
shrunk  and  his  estate  in  dilapidation  from  the 
war.  He  speaks  picturesquely  of  returning 
to  find  his  buildings  suffering  from  many 
wounds,  and  here  is  one  of  several  allusions 
to  straitened  circumstances :  — 

"...  the  bonds  which  were  due  to  me 
before  the  Revolution,  were  discharged  during 
the  progress  of  it  —  with  a  few  exceptions  in 
depreciated  paper  (in  some  instances  as  low 
as  a  shilling  in  the  pound).  .  .  .  Such  has 
been  the  management  of  my  Estate  ...  as 
scarcely  to  support  itself.  .  .  .  To  keep 
myself  out  of  debt  I  have  found  it  expedient 
now  and  then  to  sell  Lands.  ..."  But, 
without  dwelling  further  upon  his  business 
sense,  it  is  enough  to  add  that  he  so  redeemed 
his  fortune  from  its  serious  injuries  as  to  die 
the  second  richest  man  in  America.  His 
consummate  insight  regarding  the  western 
197 


Seven  future  of  the  country  led  him  to  buy  lands 

to  a^on&  a^  t^ie  great  rivers,  from  the  Mohawk 
to  the  Kanawha,  that  he  foresaw  must  be 
the  highways  of  travel  and  commerce;  in 
some  cases  such  lands  cost  him  five  pounds 
the  hundred  acres  and  were  sold  for  five 
pounds  the  acre.  Yet  his  many  directions 
as  to  buying  and  selling  show  him  to  have 
been  far  above  "sharp  practice ":  "Major 
Harrison  must  be  sensible  that  no  one  can  be 
better  acquainted  with  the  land  than  I  am; 
it  would  be  unnecessary  therefore  (if  he  has 
any  inclination  to  sell  it)  to  ask  a  price  which 
it  will  not  bear;  but  if  he  is  disposed  to  take 
a  reasonable  price,  and  will  act  the  part  of  a 
frank  and  candid  man  in  fixing  it,  I  would 
not  have  you  higgle  (which  I  dislike)  in 
making  a  bargain."  Such  were  his  methods, 
and  his  fortune  came  by  no  means  like  so 
many  of  those  built  upon  dishonor  at  the 
present  day,  but  as  the  fair  result  of  superior 
sagacity  and  application.  "  Land  rich,"  how- 
198 


ever,  as  he  died,  he  often  lived  "land  poor,"   Seven 

and  with  income  obliterated  for  a  season  in     £'/, 

Washington 

consequence  of  patriotic  neglect  to  watch 
his  own  affairs  while  attending  to  the  affairs 
of  the  nation;  yet  his  need  of  ready  money 
did  not  check  his  aid  to  others  in  need  — 
the  wife  of  Lafayette,  for  example,  to  whom 
he  sent  two  hundred  guineas  at  once  on 
learning  of  her  husband's  imprisonment, 
or  the  sufferers  from  pestilence  in  Philadel 
phia  to  whom  he  offered  assistance  through 
Bishop  White,  "without  ostentation  or  men 
tion  of  my  name,"  as  he  requests  the  bishop. 
Nor  was  it  his  fashion,  as  the  mode  is  now, 
to  put  on  the  mask  of  a  benefactor  and  thus 
disguised  to  label  colleges  and  libraries  with 
his  own  name,  thus  really  leaving  his  money 
to  himself.  His  gifts  to  education  were 
gifts,  and  not  advertisements  or  obituaries. 
Intercolonial  jealousies  were,  as  we  have 
seen,  in  full  blossom  already  by  1776,  and 
now  they  ripened  quickly  to  full  fruit.  The 
199 


Seven  common    enemy   gone,    everybody    had    full 

time  to  fall  upon  his  neighbor,  and  he  did  so, 

Washington 

until  they  were  all  nearer  to  destroying  their 
new  country  than  King  George  had  been; 
a  republic  is  its  own  worst  enemy,  and  we 
showed  this  then  as  we  show  it  to-day. 
Washington  would  have  despised  the  view 
expressed  by  a  lesser  public  servant:  "I 
had  rather  let  the  old  ship  sink,  than  keep 
pumping  at  her  all  the  while;"  therefore  he 
tasted  but  little  of  his  vine  and  fig-tree,  and 
soon  returned  to  the  ship  and  the  pumping. 
Lafayette,  on  December  30,  1777,  had  written 
to  him:  "Take  away  for  an  instant  that 
modest  diffidence  of  yourself  .  .  .  you  would 
see  very  plainly  that  if  you  were  lost  to  Amer 
ica,  there  is  nobody  who  could  keep  the  army 
and  the  revolution  for  six  months.  There 
are  open  dissensions  in  congress,  parties 
who  hate  one  another  as  much  as  the  common 
enemy."  If  Washington's  modesty  forbade 
his  believing  this,  the  quarrelling  factions 
200 


knew  it  to  be  true;  cat  and  dog  came  running  Seven 

to  him.  and  soon  he  was  presiding  over  the     ^es  °^ 

Washington 

Constitutional  Convention. 

And  now  is  the  time  to  speak  of  the  third 
cardinal  influence  in  his  life.  It  rests  not  on 
a  level  with  the  others,  coming  upon  Wash 
ington  in  the  full  high-noon  of  his  growth; 
but  in  clearing  and  shaping  his  mind  about 
what  foundations  our  new  government  should 
rest  on,  and  how  these  should  be  laid,  its  im 
portance  is  unique.  The  other  two  were  influ 
ences  upon  character,  the  rules  of  civility  and 
the  friendship  of  Fairfax;  the  third  and  last 
is  Alexander  Hamilton.  Of  him,  during  the 
war,  we  have  this  first  glimpse  recorded :  — 

"I  noticed  a  youth,  a  mere  stripling, 
small,  slender,  almost  delicate  in  frame, 
marching  beside  a  piece  of  artillery  with  a 
cocked  hat  pulled  down  over  his  eyes,  ap 
parently  lost  in  thought,  with  his  hand  rest 
ing  on  the  cannon,  and  every  now  and  then 
patting  it  as  he  mused,  as  if  it  were  a  favourite 

201 


Seven  horse  or  a  pet  plaything."     This  was  Hamil- 


r.,  ton,  not  quite  twenty  years  old.     Washing 

ton,  too,  caught  sight  of  him  at  about  this 
time,  noticing  (amidst  some  disastrous  hours 
of  fighting)  how  skilfully  some  earthworks 
were  going  forward  under  the  direction  of  a 
young  captain  of  artillery.  He  sent  for  the 
young  man,  whose  discourse  so  struck  him, 
that  presently  (March  I,  1777)  he  made  him 
aide-de-camp  with  the  rank  of  lieutenant 
colonel,  and  next  the  young  man,  now  twenty, 
was  conducting  much  of  the  correspondence 
of  the  older  man,  now  fifty-five.  Nick-named 
"the  little  lion"  by  a  colleague,  Hamilton 
was  soon  "my  boy"  to  Washington.  The 
boy  was  already  famous  through  some 
pamphlets,  and  what  war  did  for  the  disci 
pline  and  development  of  his  genius  —  for 
genius  he  had  such  as  none  other  —  must  have 
been  priceless  to  him,  and  so  to  us.  What 
his  genius  did  for  Washington  was  equally 
inestimable.  The  coming  together  of  these 

202 


two,    the    seasoned,    sagacious    intelligence,   Seven 


and    the    winged,    fiery    intellect,    may    be    Jfs, 

Washington 

likened  to  some  beneficent  chemical  union 
between  acid  and  alkali,  producing  as  it  did 
the  very  salt  of  constructive  common  sense. 
If  this  had  not,  on  the  whole,  prevailed  during 
the  stormy  years  that  were  now  to  set  in,  we 
should  have  been  to-day  but  another  nest  of 
hornet  republics,  like  the  hemisphere  to  the 
south  of  us,  or  else  swallowed  up  by  a  foreign 
power.  Among  the  sundry  passages  that 
Washington  wrote  about  the  case  of  the  new 
country,  we  take  two  :  — 

(1785.)  "The  war  ...  has  terminated 
most  advantageously  for  America,  and  a 
fair  field  is  presented  to  our  view;  but  I 
confess  to  you  freely,  my  dear  Sir,  that  I  do 
not  think  we  possess  wisdom  or  justice  enough 
to  cultivate  it  properly.  Illiberality,  jealousy, 
and  local  policy  mix  too  much  in  all  our 
public  councils  for  the  good  government  of 
the  Union.  .  .  .  The  confederation  appears 
203 


Seven  .  .  .  little    more    than    a    shadow  .  .  .  and 

V*£l*.    Congress  a  nugatory  body To  me  .  .  . 

it  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  things  in 
nature,  that  we  should  confederate  as  a 
nation,  and  yet  be  afraid  to  give  the  rulers 
of  that  nation  who  are  the  creatures  of  our 
making,  appointed  for  a  limited  and  short 
duration,  and  who  are  amenable  for  every 
action  .  .  .  sufficient  powers  to  order  and 
direct  the  affairs  of  the  same.  ...  By 
such  policy  ...  we  are  descending  into  the 
vale  of  confusion  and  darkness.  That  we 
have  it  in  our  power  to  become  one  of  the  most 
respectable  nations  upon  earth,  admits,  in 
my  humble  opinion,  of  no  doubt,  if  we  would 
but  pursue  a  wise,  just,  and  liberal  policy 
towards  one  another,  and  keep  good  faith 
with  the  rest  of  the  world."  (This  sentence 
about  "good  faith "  arose  from  his  seeing 
the  populist  instinct  not  to  pay  your  creditors 
rapidly  growing.)  Later,  1787:  "I  almost 
despair  of  seeing  a  favourable  issue  to  the  pro- 
204 


ceedings  of  our  convention,  and  do  therefore  Seven 
repent  having  had  any  agency  in  the  business.     ^   , . 
The  men  who  oppose  a  strong  and  energetic 
government,    are     in     my    opinion    narrow- 
minded  politicians.  .  .  .     The  apprehension 
expressed  by  them,  that  the  people  will  not 
accede  to  the  form   proposed,   is   the  osten 
sible,  not  the  real  cause  of  opposition.   ...     I 
am  sorry  you  went  away.     I  wish  you  were 
back."     (This  is  to  Hamilton.) 

We  find  more  angry  and  more  despondent 
words  than  these  in  his  letters  at  this  time, 
but  what  has  been  quoted  clearly  shows  his 
thoughts  and  feelings;  presently  the  Con 
stitution  was  adopted,  and  next,  on  April 
14,  1789,  a  deputation  from  Congress  waited 
on  him  at  Mount  Vernon,  and  formally 
announced  that  he  was  unanimously  elected 
first  President  of  the  United  States.  "I 
wish,"  he  replied,  "that  there  may  not  be 
reason  for  regretting  the  choice."  To  Knox, 
his  war  comrade,  he  wrote:  "In  confidence, 

205 


Seven  I    tell   you  .  .  .  that   my   movement   to   the 

chair   of  Government  will   be   accompanied 

Washington 

by  feelings  not  unlike  those  of  a  culprit  who 
is  going  to  the  place  of  his  execution." 

Vine  and  fig-tree  were  left  behind  in  this 
spirit,  in  which  there  is  nowhere  to  be  found 
any  sign  of  elation,  but  only  personal  regret 
and  unwillingness,  and  a  solemn  dedication 
of  self  to  the  new  needs  of  the  country. 
The  greeting  he  met,  the  universal  shout  of 
loyalty,  when  he  stepped  forth  upon  the 
balcony  at  his  inauguration,  caused  him  to 
falter  and  sit  down,  and  this  brought  a  silence 
as  intense  and  universal  as  the  cheering  had 
been.  Thus  he  took  his  oath,  and  then 
turned  to  enter  a  maze  of  troubles  of  every 
size  and  shape,  from  the  petty  follies  about 
the  etiquette  of  his  receptions  to  the  question 
how  the  American  people  could  be  persuaded 
to  pay  their  debts  both  domestic  and  foreign. 
There  was  scarce  a  meanness  too  small  or  a 
blindness  too  great  for  some  of  the  chief 
206 


citizens   of  that   day;     and    everything   was  Seven   - 

brought  to  him,   or   if  it  was   not  brought,     f 

Washington 

the  responsibility  of  dealing  with  it  fell 
upon  him  nevertheless,  and  he  got  the  blame 
whenever  any  one  was  not  pleased.  "We 
have  probably  had  too  good  an  opinion  of 
human  nature  in  forming  our  confederation," 
he  had  written  a  little  while  before,  and 
what  he  no\*  began  to  experience  was  not 
likely  to  disabuse  him  of  this  opinion,  but 
only  to  send  him  back  to  the  same  philosophy 
he  had  once  preached  to  General  Schuyler 
to  "make  the  best  of  mankind  as  they  are, 
since  we  can  not  have  them  as  we  wish." 
Etiquette,  then  (as  to  which  Hamilton, 
Adams,  and  Jefferson  all  differed),  had  to  be 
established,  just  how  much  and  how  little 
there  should  be,  and  this  practical  question 
was  complicated  not  only  by  differences  of 
opinion,  but  by  not  a  little  false  and  ridiculous 
gossip.  Some  of  this  is  eagerly  set  down  by 
Jefferson  in  his  book  of  malice  that  he  called 
207 


Seven  Anas,  wherein  he  has  written  himself  down  a 

character  to  which   his  worst  enemy  could 

Washington 

scarce  add  a  syllable.  He  describes  Washing 
ton  and  Mrs.  Washington  as  sitting  on  a  sort 
of  throne  during  a  ball,  at  which,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  were  on  the  floor  dancing  during 
the  whole  evening.  Indian  troubles,  secretly 
fomented  by  the  English,  harassed  our 
frontier,  and  a  great  disaster  was  suffered, 
the  news  of  which  caused  one  of  those  out 
breaks  of  violent  emotion  to  which  Washing 
ton  was  subject.  His  general  health  showed 
signs  of  the  worries  he  lived  daily  in,  among 
which  the  greatest,  possibly,  was  the  problem 
of  finance.  The  doctrine  of  not  paying  your 
debts  was  offered  in  various  sugar-coated 
forms  of  rhetoric  as  a  principle  that  should 
form  part  of  our  national  policy.  Taxation 
was  felt  to  be  an  insult  to  American  freedom, 
and  a  strong  party  came  into  existence  whose 
aim  may  be  fairly  said  to  have  been  to  re 
solve  our  Republic  into  a  "society  for  the 
208 


avoidance     of     personal     obligations"    -to   Seven 

quote  the  admirable  words  of  Mr.  Oliver  in     „   f: 

Washington 

his  study  of  Alexander  Hamilton.  "Ac 
cording  to  the  practice  of  demagogy,"  this 
writer  continues,  "the  doctrine  of  repudiation 
was  .  .  .  raised  to  a  higher  moral  plane. 
In  the  twilight  of  words  and  phrases  the 
seductive  idea,  like  a  lady  of  doubtful  virtue 
and  waning  beauty,  was  arranged  in  a  char 
itable  and  becoming  shadow.  .  .  ."  Thomas 
Jefferson  favored  all  these  things ;  he  worked 
out  one  of  his  ingenious  quackeries  to  show 
the  iniquity  of  creating  a  national  debt.  We 
had  no  moral  right  to  make  a  loan  that  our 
children  must  pay;  he  produced  arithmetic 
to  show  that  nineteen  years  is  the  length  of 
a  generation,  and  he  advocated  that  any 
debt  still  unpaid  after  nineteen  years  should 
be  extinguished.  It  may  be  imagined  how 
attractive  such  a  scheme  would  be  to  a  "  so 
ciety  for  the  avoidance  of  personal  obliga 
tions,"  and  how  dear  to  the  hearts  of  "the 
p  209 


Seven  people"    Jefferson    thus    made    himself;     it 

may  also  be  imagined  with  what  heartiness 

Washington 

Holland,  or  any  other  country,  would  have 
responded  to  our  application  for  money, 
if  such  doctrines  had  prevailed.  Shea's 
Rebellion  —  one  of  our  paper-money  episodes 
of  insanity,  and  at  core  a  local  phase  of  re 
pudiation  —  had  a  few  years  earlier  revealed 
the  ideas  of  the  society  for  the  avoidance  of 
personal  obligation,  and  for  this  demonstra 
tion  Jefferson  had  nothing  but  praise.  "God 
forbid,"  he  said,  "that  we  should  be  twenty 
years  without  a  rebellion.  .  .  .  The  tree 
of  liberty  must  be  refreshed  from  time  to 
time  with  the  blood  of  patriots  and  tyrants. 
It  is  its  natural  manure."  From  this  sprightly 
and  vivacious  doctrine  he  excepted  himself; 
when  Tarleton  and  his  raiders  came  too  near 
the  Virginia  legislature,  he  fled  with  a  prompt 
ness  that  showed  conclusively  he  had  no  in 
tention  his  own  blood  should  refresh  the  tree 
of  liberty.  The  still  more  comprehensive 
210 


doctrine,  that  if  any  man  happened  to  dis-  Seven 

like  any  law,  it  was  his  American  perquisite     ges  °* 

Washington 

and  sacred  right  to  break  such  law,  was 
another  of  the  menacing  undercurrents  dur 
ing  Washington's  first  term,  and  during  his 
second  it  broke  out  in  the  Whiskey  Insur 
rection.  It  was  deemed  by  true  Jeffer- 
sonians,  such  as  Edmund  Randolph,  a 
despotic  outrage  upon  liberty  that  troops 
should  be  sent  to  enforce  order  and  obedience 
to  the  law.  These  are  the  "principles" 
that  we  have  inherited  from  Thomas  Jeffer 
son  —  if  it  can  be  said  that  he  had  any  fixed 
principles  —  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  he 
remains  a  popular  idol;  the  real  wonder  is, 
that  Washington,  who  threw  his  whole  force 
against  such  principles,  and  with  Hamilton's 
help  largely  defeated  them,  should  remain 
a  popular  idol  too.  It  is  most  natural  that 
Hamilton,  the  greatest  benefactor  our  young 
country  knew,  except  Washington,  should  have 
no  popularity  whatever,  although  his  great- 
211 


Seven  ness  is  beginning  at  last  to  emerge  and  estab 

lish  itself  in  the  general  knowledge  of  man- 

Washington 

kind.  Lest  the  reader,  not  fresh  from  any 
first-hand  examination  of  Jefferson,  but  only 
aware  of  him  through  a  sort  of  traditional 
hearsay,  should  be  tempted  to  doubt  the 
phrase  above  as  to  Jefferson's  instability  of 
convictions,  let  him  read  and  ponder  the 
following  sentence :  — 

"When  any  one  state  in  the  American  union 
refuses  obedience  to  the  Confederation  to 
which  they  have  bound  themselves  the  rest  have 
the  natural  right  to  compell  it  to  obedience." 
The  expounder  of  states-rights  wrote  this.  It 
may  be  found  in  Ford's  "  Writings  of  Thomas 
Jefferson,"  Vol.  iv,  page  147. 

Through  Thomas  Jefferson  there  ran  one 
sincere  thread  of  belief — his  faith  in  man 
kind,  and  for  this  he  is  beloved  of  the  multi 
tude  without  any  investigation  as  to  how 
much  concrete  benefit  to  mankind  resulted 
from  his  faith.  Phrases  indeed  he  coined  — 
212 


nobody   more   elegantly   or   prolifically,    but  Seven 

(again    to    use    Mr.    Oliver's    words)    "no 

Washington 

power  could  translate  them  into  policy  or 
law,  because  they  did  not  correspond  with 
any  translatable  human  facts.  For  the  greater 
part  they  were  only  words,  and  for  the  rest 
they  were  the  fancies  of  a  poet."  We,  far 
away  from  the  malice  and  disloyalty  Jeffer 
son  measured  out  not  alone  to  his  political 
foes,  but  to  friends  of  whose  reputation  he 
grew  jealous,  can  feel  his  personal  fascina 
tion.  Such  keen  outlook,  such  vivacious 
curiosity  as  to  all  things,  such  engaging 
fancy  and  diction,  make  him  a  wonderful 
being;  he  stands  the  incomparable  dabbler, 
the  illustrious  dilettante,  of  his  day.  As 
the  writer  of  the  Declaration  of  Indepen 
dence,  he  lives  permanently  with  those  great 
founders  of  our  Republic,  whom  we  shall 
never  forget;  as  the  consummator  of  the 
Louisiana  Purchase  (a  total  departure  from 
his  own  "principles")  we  owe  him  equal 
213 


Seven  or  deeper  gratitude;    but  if  his  political  co 

herence,    his    constructive   statesmanship,   is 

Washington 

examined,  it  crumbles  away,  leaving  noth 
ing  but  a  faith  in  mankind  amid  a  cloud  of 
dust. 

Worry  over  the  mischief  made,  and  the 
more  mischief  attempted,  by  those  who 
corresponded  in  that  day  to  the  "green- 
backers,"  the  "farmers'  alliance,"  and  the 
"populists"  of  later  days,  impaired  Wash 
ington's  health,  and  also  fatigued  and  dis 
enchanted  him  in  his  ceaseless  effort  to  set 
the  infant  Republic  on  its  legs.  The  infant 
Republic  struggled  tooth  and  nail  against 
this;  in  fact,  toward  every  measure  adopted 
for  its  soundness  and  permanence,  the  infant 
Republic  may  be  likened  in  its  conduct  to  an 
ill-conditioned,  squalling  brat,  disgusting  all 
save  its  most  patient  guardians.  Washing 
ton  would  have  been  very  glad  to  be  free  of 
the  whole  business;  but  the  brat,  genuinely 
scared  lest  the  parent  whom  it  had  been 
214 


biting    and    scratching    should    abandon    it  Seven 

to  its  own  devices,  clung  to  him,  not  in  grati-    _£ 

Washington 

tude,  but  in  terror.  Even  Jefferson,  who  had 
been  opposed  to  the  Administration's  policy, 
and,  though  a  member  of  the  cabinet,  was 
encouraging  newspaper  attacks  upon  it  — 
if  he  did  not  actually  dictate  many  of  the 
articles  himself — even  Jefferson  wished 
Washington  to  stay.  Jefferson's  most  useful 
trait,  perhaps,  was  a  power  to  drop  all  his 
theories  in  the  face  of  a  crisis,  and  do  the 
practical  thing.  "North  and  South  will 
hang  together  if  they  have  you  to  hang  on," 
he  said;  and  Washington  stayed  —  but  here 
is  how  he  felt:  — 

"To  say  I  feel  pleasure  from  the  prospect 
of  commencing  another  tour  of  duty  would 
be  a  departure  from  truth;  for,  however  it 
might  savor  of  affectation  in  the  opinion  of 
the  world  (who,  by  the  by,  can  only  guess  at 
my  sentiments,  as  it  never  has  been  troubled 
with  them),  my  particular  and  confidential 
215 


Seven  friends  well  know,  that  it  was  after  a  long  and 

painful  conflict  in  my  own  breast,  that  I  was 

Washington 

withheld  (by  considerations  which  are  not 
necessary  to  be  mentioned)  from  requesting 
in  time,  that  no  vote  might  be  thrown  away 
upon  me,  it  being  my  fixed  determination  to 
return  to  the  walks  of  private  life  at  the  end 
of  my  term." 

But  he  could  not  do  so,  and  well  it  is  for 
our  -present  existence  that  he  did  not  do  so. 
Nothing  but  the  confidence  and  love  he 
filled  the  people  with  over  the  heads  and 
beyond  the  voices  of  the  papers  and  politi 
cians  could  have  tided  us  through  the  dangers 
which  now  not  only  came  to  us  without 
invitation,  but  which  the  papers  and  poli 
ticians  also  loudly  invited.  Washington  was 
not  a  party  man;  he  says  of  himself,  "party 
disputes  are  now  carried  to  such  a  length, 
and  truth  is  so  enveloped  in  mist  and  false 
representation,  that  it  is  extremely  difficult 
to  know  through  what  channel  to  seek  it. 
216 


This  difficulty  to  one  who  is  of  no  party,  Seven 

and  whose  sole  wish  is  to  pursue  with   un- 

Washington 

deviating  steps  a  path,  which  would  lead  this 
country  to  respectability,  wealth,  and  hap 
piness,  is  exceedingly  to  be  lamented."  In 
this  same  spirit  he  made  appointments, 
writing  a  favorite  nephew  who  had  asked  him 
for  one,  "however  deserving  you  may  be  .  .  . 
your  standing  would  not  justify  my  nomina 
tion  of  you  ...  in  preference  to  some  of  the 
ablest  and  most  esteemed  .  .  .  lawyers.  .  .  . 
My  political  conduct  in  nominations,  even  if 
I  were  uninfluenced  by  principle,  must  be 
exceedingly  circumspect.  .  .  ."  The  use  of 
his  name  in  a  Maryland  election  brought  to 
the  culprit  one  of  his  very  severe  rebukes: 
"  I  was  not  a  little  displeased  to  find  .  .  .  my 
name  had  been  freely  used  by  you  or  your 
friends  .  .  .  when  I  had  never  associated 
your  name  and  the  election  together.  .  .  . 
There  had  been  the  most  scrupulous  and 
pointed  caution  ...  on  my  part  not  to 
217 


Seven  express  a  sentiment  respecting  the  fitness  or 

unfitness  of  any  candidate  for  representation. 

Washington 

.  .  .  The  exercise  of  an  influence  would  be 
highly  improper;  as  the  people  ought  to  be 
entirely  at  liberty  to  chuse  whom  they  pleased 
to  represent  them  in  Congress."  But  this 
highmindedness  was  lost  upon  the  screaming 
infant  Republic,  feverish  with  that  disease 
not  yet  exterminated,  and  always  fatal  if 
not  kept  in  check,  the  disease  of  plebiscitis. 
Sickened  by  the  treatment  he  received, 
Washington  speaks  without  reserve,  once,  to 
Jefferson :  " .  .  .  nor  did  I  believe  until  lately 
.  .  .  that,  while  I  was  using  my  utmost  exer 
tions  to  establish  a  national  character  of  our 
own,  independent,  as  far  as  our  obligations 
and  justice  would  permit,  of  every  nation  of 
the  earth,  .  .  .  every  act  of  my  administra 
tion  would  be  tortured  .  .  (  and  that  too  in 
such  exaggerated  and  indecent  terms  as  could 
scarcely  be  applied  to  a  Nero,  a  notorious 
defaulter,  or  even  to  a  common  pickpocket." 
218 


A  delirious  dread  of  Washington's  becom-  Seven 

ing  king  —  he  pronounced  it   insane  himself     ^es  °* 

Washington 

to  Jefferson,  who  feared,  or  made  believe  to 
fear  it  —  was  continually  fomented  by  the 
papers,  of  which  he  took  no  public  notice; 
but  his  letters  are  full  of  the  evidences  of  his 
feeling.  "In  a  word,"  he  writes  Edmund 
Randolph  before  the  scandal  of  the  French 
minister  had  ended  their  relations,  "if  the 
government  and  the  offices  of  it  are  to  be 
the  constant  theme  for  newspaper  abuse, 
and  this  too  without  condescending  to  in 
vestigate  the  motives  or  the  facts,  it  will  be 
impossible,  I  conceive,  for  any  man  living  to 
manage  the  helm  or  to  keep  the  machine 
together." 

It  is  curious  to  read  those  newspapers  of 
the  1790*5  and  see  how  much  time  has  mod 
erated  the  violence  of  words,  though  not  at 
all  the  poison  of  slander  and  sensation.  It  • 
could  not  be  printed  to-day  that  "the  eldest 
son  of  Satan,  Albert  Gallatin,  arrived  in 
219 


Seven  town    yesterday     afternoon."     They     dared 

not  go  so  far  with  Washington's  name,  but 

Washington 

they  spent  much  ingenuity  upon  him.  In  a 
sort  of  burlesque  dictionary,  published  in 
Freneau's  Gazette,  Philadelphia,  24  April, 
1793,  we  find  :  "Great  man.  Excellent  judge 
of  horse-flesh."  And  again,  "  Valerius  "  (or 
"Brutus"  or  "Publius")  writes:  "If  the 
form  of  monarchy  was  exalted  among  us,  a 
national  love  of  liberty  would  rally  all 
around  the  standard  of  opposition,  except 
the  minions  of  the  idol."  Once  more: 
"The  temple  of  Liberty,  like  that  of  Vesta, 
should  never  be  without  a  centinel.  .  .  . 
Were  I  to  see  public  servants  excluding 
private  citizens  from  their  tables,  I  should 
not  hesitate  to  sound  the  alarm."  We  may 
wonder,  if  every  American  had  the  right  to 
dine  with  his  President,  how  long  the  cook 
would  stay.  Let  us  see  what  the  hapless 
public  servant  had  to  say  about  this  last 
accusation:  "Between  the  hours  of  three 
220 


and  four  every  Tuesday,  I  am  prepared  to  Seven 

receive.  .  .  .    Gentlemen,  often  in  great  num-     ^es  y 

Washington 

bers,  come  and  go,  chat  with  each  other, 
and  act  as  they  please.  .  .  .  Similar  .  .  . 
are  the  visits  every  Friday  afternoon  to  Mrs. 
Washington,  where  I  always  am.  -  -  These  - 
and  a  dinner  once  a  week  to  as  many  as  my 
table  will  hold  —  are  as  much,  if  not  more, 
than  I  am  able  to  undergo;  for  I  have  al 
ready  had,  within  less  than  a  year,  two  severe 
attacks  —  the  last  one  worse  than  the  first. 
A  third,  more  than  probably,  will  put  me  to 
sleep  with  my  fathers."  To  this,  let  the 
following,  with  its  unconscious  pathos  and 
irony  be  appended.  "3151  July,  1797.  Dear 
Sir:  I  am  alone  at  present  .  .  .  unless 
some  one  pops  in  unexpectedly,  Mrs.  Wash 
ington  and  myself  will  do  what  I  believe  has 
not  been  done  in  the  last  twenty  years  by 
us  —  that  is  to  set  down  to  dinner  by  our 
selves/' 

During  these  first  momentous  years,  two 
221 


Seven  forces  —  the   perennial   forces   of  our   Com 

monwealth,  the  Federal  power  and  the  State 

Washington 

power  —  were  to  be  apportioned  and  pro 
portioned,  and  between  these  Washington's 
strength  was  continually  ground.  Any  event, 
any  question,  whether  domestic  or  foreign, 
set  them  raging.  Had  the  centrifugal  force 
outbalanced  the  other,  we  should  have  been 
all  tire  and  no  axle;  the  wheels  of  the  Re 
public  would  have  sunk  in  splinters.  Those 
who  dreaded  on  the  other  hand  that  we 
should  be  all  axle  and  no  tire,  pushed  their 
dread  rather  fantastically;  but  certainly,  if 
the  wheels  are  to  stay  sound  and  turning, 
we  need  the  perpetual,  adjusted  equilibrium 
of  those  two  forces;  the  United  States  are 
a  federation,  each  one  remaining  a  whole 
as  regards  each  of  the  others,  though  it  be  a 
part  as  regards  the  whole.  But  upon  Wash 
ington  the  grinding  told,  and  with  the  ill 
consequences  to  his  health  came  some  not 
surprising  signs  of  increasing  irascibility. 
222 


Several   references   to   violent   outbreaks   on  Seven 

his   part  have  been  made;    the  news  of  St.      &es  ; 

Washington 

Glair's  defeat  by  the  Indians  had  caused  one 
of  these,  narrated  by  the  single  person  in 
whose  presence  it  occurred.  Of  another, 
which  took  place  in  the  presence  of  the  whole 
cabinet,  Jefferson  gives  the  account.  "  Knox 
in  a  foolish,  Incoherent  sort  of  speech  intro 
duced  the  Pasquinade  lately  printed,  called 
the  funeral  of  George  Washington,  and 
James  Wilson,  King  and  Judge,  &c.,  where 
the  President  was  placed  on  a  guillotine.  The 
President  was  much  inflamed,  got  into  one  of 
those  passions  when  he  can  not  command 
himself,  ran  on  to  the  personal  abuse  which 
had  been  bestowed  on  him,  defied  any  man 
on  earth  to  produce  one  single  act  of  his  since 
he  had  been  in  the  government  which  was  not 
done  on  the  purest  motives,  that  he  had 
never  repented  but  once  the  having  slipped  the 
moment  of  resigning  his  office,  and  that  was 
every  moment  since,  that  by  God  he  would 
223 


Seven  rather  be  in  his  grave  than  in  his  present 

situation.     That   he   had    rather    be   on   his 

Washington 

farm  than  to  be  made  emperor  of  the  world 
and  yet  that  they  were  charging  him  with 
wanting  to  be  a  King.  ...  He  ended  in 
this  high  tone.  There  was  a  pause.  Some 
difficulty  in  resuming  our  question/' 

Poor,  beset,  bull-baited  Washington ! 
The  mind,  even  all  these  years  after,  feels  a 
shock  of  anger  and  shame  that  he  should 
have  tasted  an  ingratitude  so  insensate  and 
bestial.  The  "  voice  of  the  people,"  Jeffer 
son's  divine  guide,  has  never  (in  this  coun 
try)  more  clearly  shown  that  it  can  be,  on 
occasion,  the  voice  of  hell. 

A  cartoon,  showing  Washington  upon  the 
guillotine  (which  was  never  an  instrument  of 
execution  in  this  country),  is  curiously  sig 
nificant  of  how  closely  the  French  Revolution 
grazed  us,  how  mixed  and  kneaded  in  it  was 
with  our  popular  imagination.  No  other 
foreign  event  has  ever  come  so  near  us, 
224 


has  ever  so  occupied  the  general  mind,  has  Seven 


ever     so     endangered     our    own     existence.    r£', 

Washington 

That  convulsion,  while  it  was  ripping  France 
open  and  tearing  it  down,  and  while  it  was 
threatening  to  shake  the  whole  house  of 
Europe  to  pieces,  sent  undulations  over 
here  that  would  infallibly  have  split  our 
walls  too,  but  for  the  firm  back  of  Washing 
ton,  propped  against  them.  He  distrusted 
the  French  Revolution  from  the  first,  when 
Jefferson  was  gleefully  hailing  it  as  the  dawn 
of  the  millennium.  His  letters,  wishing  the 
cause  of  liberty  well,  betray  a  reserve  as  to 
the  method  in  which  the  French  are  seeking 
liberty,  and  this  doubt  increases  until  it  ends 
in  horrified  repudiation  of  what  was  being 
done;  "the  summit  of  despotism"  is  his 
brief  opinion  of  it.  But  there  was  a  loud 
party  here  that  did  not  discriminate;  it  was 
mainly  composed  of  those  who  regarded 
taxation  as  a  symptom  of  monarchy,  and 
understood  a  republic  to  mean  the  right  to 

Q  225 


Seven  break  any  law  that  displeased  you;    but  we 

Ages  of  ... 

Washington    must  ^°  tnese  people  what  justice  we  can. 

There  was  a  wide  and  righteous  gratitude 
to  France  for  what  she  had  done  to  help  our 
own  Revolution,  and  there  was  a  treaty  with 
her,  besides  an  equally  wide  and  natural 
hatred  of  England,  with  whom  France  was 
presently  at  war.  Where  these  people  failed 
to  discriminate  was  in  their  inability  to  see 
that  the  France  who  had  helped  us,  the  France 
of  Lafayette  and  Rochambeau,  of  Louis  XVI, 
was  not  the  France  they  wished  to  befriend  in 
return;  our  France  had  been  pulled  down 
by  a  mob,  and  it  was  not  even  to  its  ruins, 
but  to  the  mob,  that  American  sympathy  was 
directed.  Bache's  paper  of  May  25,  1793, 
expresses  the  general  belief  in  saying:  "The 
fact  will  be  found  to  be,  that  the  French 
understand  the  principles  of  a  free  govern 
ment  —  that  the  English  do  not."  Nothing 
that  Washington  did  brought  him  bitterer 
hate  than  his  stand  for  neutrality  when 
226 


England    went    to   war   with    France.     The  Seven 

French   party  here  would   have   rushed   this    ^ 

Washington 

tottering  young  country  into  a  European 
strife.  Some  one  from  Pittsburgh  writes  to 
Freneau's  Gazette:  "Louis  Capet  has  lost 
his  Caput.  From  my  use  of  a  pun,  it  may 
seem  that  I  think  lightly  of  his  fate.  I  cer 
tainly  do."  And  the  same  paper  later 
addresses  Washington:  "Sir  .  .  .  The 
cause  of  France  is  the  cause  of  man,  and 
neutrality  is  desertion.  ...  I  doubt  much 
whether  it  is  the  disposition  of  the  United 
States  to  preserve  the  conduct  you  enjoin. 
.  .  .  The  American  mind  is  indignant,  and 
needs  but  to  be  roused  a  little  to  go  to  war 
with  England  and  assist  France."  For  a 
while  the  volatile  Jefferson  busily  connived 
at  all  this,  busily  befriended  the  French 
envoy,  the  impudent  and  meddlesome  Genet. 
We  cannot  go  into  the  case  of  the  Little 
Sarah,  that  was  fitted  out  to  aid  France  and 
sailed  away  under  Jefferson's  nose.  There 
227 


Seven  can   be   little   doubt  he  was   uncandid  with 

Washington    about    this;     a    sentence    in    a 

Washington 

letter  from  Washington  to  Henry  Lee  is 
highly  significant;  but  when  he  came  face 
to  face  with  the  results  of  his  ill-judged  pat 
ronage  of  Genet,  and  found  that  this  political 
adventurer  proposed  to  appeal  to  the  Amer 
ican  people  against  the  decision  of  the  Pres 
ident,  he  came  back  to  his  senses  for  a  while. 
Genet,  according  to  his  successor,  Fauchet, 
showed  "more  personal  hatred  for  Wash 
ington  than  love  for  France."  Fauchet 
himself  turned  out  a  rascal  later,  and  Adet, 
who  followed  him,  was  as  bad.  These 
people,  sent  to  us  by  French  "liberty,"  form 
a  curious  contrast  with  Lafayette,  de  Grasse, 
Rochambeau,  Chastellux,  and  the  others  who 
came  to  us  from  French  "despotism."  Wash 
ington's  proclamation  of  neutrality  saved  us 
from  a  peril  that  might  well  have  been  fatal, 
and  the  "American  mind,"  in  spite  of  the 
newspaper,  accepted  the  President's  judg- 
228 


ment.    "I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  John  Adams  Seven 

to  the  Spanish  minister,  Yrujo,  a  youne  man    _£ 

J    '  Washington 

very  free  and  easy  in  his  manners,  as  Wash 
ington  describes  him,  "the  French  republic 
will  not  last  three  months;"  and  Adams 
shook  his  ringer  at  Yrujo.  Jefferson  quotes 
this  with  malicious  relish,  as  showing  what  a 
fool  Adams  was.  The  French  republic  did 
last  longer  than  three  months.  It  was  pro 
claimed  in  1792.  In  one  year  they  abolished 
the  Calendar  and  the  Christian  era,  renamed 
all  the  months,  and  started  a  new  era  with  the 
year  one.  They  then  abolished  Christianity 
itself;  Robespierre  dancing  in  front  of  the 
image  of  Reason,  while  flowers  were  strewed 
about.  This  performance  was  entitled  the 
"Picnic  of  the  Supreme  Being."  Then 
they  cut  off  Robespierre's  head  —  he  was  not 
advanced  enough  for  them  —  and  children 
were  given  toy  guillotines,  which  cut  off 
doll's  heads,  from  which  spurted  red  syrup. 
This  was  the  real  France,  with  which  the 
229 


Seven  "American   mind"   felt   such    sympathy;     a 

France  of  rivers  of  blood,  in  which  danced 

Washington 

monkeys  and  assassins.  Even  the  flighty 
Jefferson's  vision  of  the  millennium  was 
troubled  during  the  Reign  of  Terror,  and  we 
find  him  writing  a  very  mixed  metaphor  to 
the  effect  that  "the  arm  of  the  people"  is 
"blind  to  a  certain  degree."  After  1792, 
France  was  republic,  directorate,  consulate, 
monarchy,  and  empire,  changing  its  form  of 
government  ten  times  in  eighty  years.  We 
recall  and  assemble  these  familiar  facts  in 
order  that  against  their  background  the 
reader  may  more  instantly  see  the  value  of 
Washington's  neutrality,  and  the  folly  of  the 
very  powerful  and  clamorous  party  who 
denounced  it;  but  to  see  these  things  fully, 
the  newspapers  of  that  day  should  be  read. 
From  the  many  echoes  of  doubt  and  dis 
trust  in  our  stability  caused  by  the  resistance 
to  taxation  and  the  sympathy  with  the 
French  Revolution,  we  select  a  few  lines 
230 


written  from  Congress  by  the  same  Jeremiah   Seven 

Smith  who    became    chief    justice    of  New     ges  Y 

Washington 

Hampshire :  — 

"You  perceive  that  we  have  been,  I  may 
say  still  are,  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  ready 
to  take  a  leap  into  the  abyss  of  confusion.  .  .  . 
God  knows  howthis  ship  of  ours  will  sail,  when 
the  present  pilot  quits  the  helm.  If  we  may 
judge  from  present  appearances,  she  will 
inevitably  founder." 

From  the  pilot's  own  letters  we  select  and 
place  together  for  the  last  time  some  sentences 
dealing  with  a  few  of  his  problems  —  many 
of  them  still  our  problems  —  and  showing  the 
man  himself  after  his  encounter  with  them. 

"The  difference  of  conduct  between  the 
friends  and  foes  of  ...  good  government, 
is  ...  that  the  latter  are  always  working 
like  bees  to  distil  their  poison;  whilst  the 
former,  depending  often  times  too  much 
and  too  long  upon  the  sense  and  good  disposi 
tion  of  the  people  to  work  conviction,  neglect 
231 


Seven  the  means  of  effecting  it.   ...     My  opinion 

with  respect  to  emigration  is  that  except  of 

Washington 

useful  mechanics  and  sOme  particular  de 
scription  of  men  or  professions,  there  is  no 
need  of  encouragement,  while  the  policy  or 
advantage  of  its  taking  place  in  a  body  .  .  . 
may  be  much  questioned :  for  by  so  doing, 
they  retain  the  Language,  habits  and  prin 
ciples  (good  or  bad)  which  they  bring  with 
them.  .  .  .  Never  forget  that  we  are  Amer 
icans,  the  remembrance  of  which  will  con 
vince  us  that  we  ought  not  to  be  French  or 
English.  .  .  .  [The  following  shows  how 
early  a  certain  habit  of  visitors  from  abroad 
began.]  The  remarks  of  a  foreign  Count 
are  such  as  do  no  credit  to  his  judgment, 
and  as  little  to  his  heart.  They  are  the 
superficial  observations  of  a  few  months' 
residence,  and  an  insult  to  the  inhabitants 
of  a  country,  where  he  has  received  much 
more  attention  and  civility  than  he  seems  to 
merit.  .  .  ."  [It  was  also  bound  to  begin 
232 


early,  that  representatives  elected  to  repre-  Seven 

sent   should  misrepresent  those  who  elected      ^ 

Washington 

them,  and  this  seems  to  have  come  to  a 
considerable  head  at  the  time  of  Jay's  treaty 
with  England,  an  understanding  which 
France  did  her  best  to  prevent.]  The 
treaty,  said  Washington,  "does  not  rise  to 
all  our  wishes,  yet  it  appears  to  be  cal 
culated  to  procure  to  the  United  States 
such  advantages  as  entitle  it  to  our  accept 
ance.  .  .  .  People  living  at  a  distance  know 
not  how  to  believe  it  possible  that  .  .  . 
representatives  .  .  .  can  speak  a  language 
which  is  repugnant  to  the  sense  of  their 
constituents.  .  .  .  Whatever  my  own  opin 
ion  may  be  ...  it  ...  will  continue  to  be 
my  earnest  desire  to  learn,  and,  as  far  as 
consistent,  to  comply  with,  the  public  senti 
ment;  but  it  is  on  great  occasions  only,  and 
after  time  has  been  given  for  cool  and  de 
liberate  reflection,  that  the  real  voice  of  the 
people  can  be  known.  ...  I  am  sure  the 
233 


Seven  mass  of  citizens  in  these  United  States  mean 

welly  and  I   firmly  believe  they  will  always 

Washington  J 

act  well  whenever  they  can  obtain  a  right 
understanding  .  .  .  but  in  some  parts  of  the 
Union,  where  the  sentiments  of  their  dele 
gates  and  leaders  are  adverse  to  the  govern 
ment,  and  great  pains  are  taken  to  inculcate 
a  belief  that  their  rights  are  assailed  and  their 
liberties  endangered,  it  is  not  easy  to  accom 
plish  this;  especially,  as  is  the  case  invari 
ably,  when  the  inventors  and  abettors  of 
pernicious  measures  use  infinite  more  in 
dustry  in  disseminating  the  poison,  than  the 
well-disposed  part  of  the  community  to  fur 
nish  the  antidote.  .  .  ." 

As  has  been  said,  he  began  as  a  man  of  no 
party,  but  became  inevitably  ranged  with 
the  Federalists;  his  political  affinity  with 
Hamilton,  his  affection  for  him  —  ever  warmer 
as  the  years  went  on  —  and  his  modest 
recognition  of  Hamilton's  superior  gifts  in 
statesmanship,  led  him  to  go  to  his  friend  with 
234 


every  question  that  he  was  pondering,  even   Seven 

small   ones.     Adet,   the   third   unsatisfactory     ges  y 

Washington 

envoy  from  France,  had  published  a  letter  to 
the  Secretary  of  State :  — 

"...  whether  the  publication  in  the  man 
ner  it  appears  is  by  order  of  the  Directory, 
or  an  act  of  his  own,  is  yet  to  be  learnt.  If 
the  first,  he  has  executed  a  duty  only;  if 
the  latter,  he  exceeded  it,  and  is  himself 
responsible  for  the  indignity  offered  to  this 
Government  by  such  publication,  without 
allowing  it  time  to  reply.  ...  In  either 
case,  should  there  be  in  your  opinion  any 
difference  in  my  reception  and  treatment  of 
that  Minister  in  his  visits  at  the  public 
Rooms  (I  have  not  seen  him  yet,  nor  do  not 
expect  to  do  it  before  Tuesday  next)  —  and 
what  difference  should  be  made  if  any?" 
To  which  Hamilton  answers :  — 
"The  true  rule  on  this  point  would  be  to 
receive  the  Minister  at  your  levees  with  a 
dignified  reserve -,  holding  an  exact  medium 
235 


Seven  between  an  offensive  coldness  and  cordiality. 

The  point  is  a  nice  one  to  be  hit,  but  no  one 

Washington 

will  know  how  to  do  it  better  than  the  Pres 
ident." 

We  dwell  not  upon  his  Farewell  Ad 
dress,  his  own  idea  and  work  —  though  it 
benefited  by  the  criticism  of  Hamilton  ;  it 
needs  no  mention  here;  we  finish  with 
a  few  further  examples  of  his  opinions. 
"I  was  in  hopes  that  motives  of  policy  as 
well  as  other  good  reasons  supported  by 
the  direful  effects  of  slavery  .  .  .  would 
have  operated  to  produce  a  total  pro 
hibition  of  the  importation  of  slaves.  .  .  . 
Were  it  not  that  I  am  principled  against 
selling  negroes  ...  I  would  not  in  twelve 
months  from  this  date  be  possessed  of  one, 
as  a  slave.  I  shall  be  happily  mistaken  if 
they  are  not  found  to  be  very  troublesome 
species  of  property  ere  many  years  pass  over 
our  heads.  .  .  .  We  are  all  the  children  of 
the  same  country.  .  .  .  Our  interest  ...  is 

236 


the    same.   .   .   .     My    system   .   .   .   has    uni-   Seven 


formly  been  ...  to  contemplate  the  United    ?*"., 

J  Washington 

States  as  one  great  whole  ...  for  sure  I 
am,  if  this  country  is  preserved  in  tranquillity 
twenty  years  longer,  it  may  bid  defiance  in  a 
just  cause  to  any  power  whatever;  such  in 
that  time  will  be  its  population,  wealth  and 
resources.  .  .  .  [The  next  regards  the  Fed 
eral  City  which  he  had  in  mind.]  I  take 
the  liberty  of  sending  you  the  plan  of  a  new 
city,  situated  about  the  centre  of  the  Union  of 
these  States,  which  is  designated  for  the 
permanent  seat  of  government.  ...  A  cen 
tury  hence  if  this  country  keeps  united  (and 
it  is  surely  its  policy  and  interest  to  do  it) 
will  produce  a  city,  though  not  so  large  as 
London,  yet  of  a  magnitude  inferior  to  few 
others  in  Europe,  on  the  banks  of  the  Po 
tomac  .  .  .  where  elegant  buildings  are  erect 
ing  and  in  forwardness  for  the  reception  of 
Congress  in  the  year  1800.  .  .  .  [This 
concerns  his  third  term.]  It  would  be  a 
237 


Seven  matter  of  sore  regret  to  me,  if  I  could  believe 

that  a  serious  thought  was  turned  towards 

Washington 

me  .  .  .  for,  although  I  have  abundant 
cause  to  be  thankful  for  the  good  health  with 
which  I  am  blessed,  yet  I  am  not  insensible 
to  my  declination  in  other  respects.  It 
would  be  criminal,  therefore,  in  me,  although 
it  would  be  the  wish  of  my  countrymen  .  .  . 
to  accept  an  office  .  .  .  which  another  would 
discharge  with  more  ability." 

This  is  the  person  whom  they  pictured 
on  the  guillotine;  the  author  of  that  Fare 
well  Address  more  times  printed  than  any 
American  state  document;  and  this  is  the 
person  of  whom  the  newspaper,  Bache's 
Aurora,  said  upon  his  retiring  from  the 
presidency:  "If  ever  a  Nation  was  de 
bauched  by  a  man,  the  American  Nation 
has  been  debauched  by  Washington." 

So  much  patience  of  mind  seems  never  to 
have  belonged  to  any  other  great  public 
man;  to  take  difficult  thoughts,  one  by  one, 

238 


and  march  slowly  to  their  end,   and   so  to  Seven 

reach   conclusions  which  were   impregnable  Ages  °f 

Washington 

then,  and  which  time  itself  has  left  unassailed, 
this  was  his  preeminent  quality.  Very 
different  he  was  from  the  ingenious,  better- 
educated  Jefferson,  whose  mind  leaped  lightly 
to  attractive  generalizations,  which  the  ruth 
less  test  of  actuality  finds  to  be  mostly  rub 
bish.  The  two  may  be  styled  the  hare  and 
the  tortoise  of  our  Independence.  One 
other  great  quality  comes  forth  from  all 
Washington's  deeds  and  words,  like  a  beauti 
ful  glow;  its  lustre  seems  to  shine  in  every 
page  that  he  writes,  and  in  all  his  dealings  with 
men, with  ideas,  with  himself;  it  is  the  quality 
of  simplicity.  Our  fathers  had  it  more  than 
we  of  to-day,  and  it  would  be  well  for  us  if  we 
could  regain  it.  The  Englishman  of  to-day 
is  superior  to  us  in  it;  he  has  in  general, 
no  matter  what  his  station,  a  quiet  way  of 
doing  and  of  being,  of  letting  himself  alone, 
that  we  in  general  lack.  We  cannot  seem 
239 


Seven  to  let  ourselves  alone;    we  must  talk  when 

there    is   nothing;   to    say:   we   must    joke  — 
Washington  J 

especially  we  must  joke  —  when  there  is  no 
need  for  it,  and  when  nobody  asks  to  be  enter 
tained.  This  is  the  nervousness  of  democ 
racy;  we  are  uncertain  if  the  other  man 
thinks  we  are  "as  good"  as  he  is;  therefore 
we  must  prove  that  we  are,  at  first  sight,  by 
some  sort  of  performance.  Such  doubt 
never  occurs  to  the  established  man,  to  the 
man  whose  case  is  proven;  he  is  not  thinking 
about  what  we  think  of  him.  So  the  Indian, 
so  the  frontiersman,  so  the  true  gentleman, 
does  not  live  in  this  restlessness.  Nor  did 
Washington ;  and  therefore  he  moved  always 
in  simplicity,  that  balanced  and  wholesome 
ease  of  the  spirit,  which  when  it  comes  among 
those  who  must  be  showing  off  from  moment 
to  moment,  shines  like  a  quiet  star  upon 
fireworks. 

And  how  did  the  man  who  had  been  twice 
President    now   look  ?     The    descriptions  of 
240 


him  belonging  to  this  period  tell  of  changes.   Seven 

Less  mention  is  made  of  his  agreeable  smile,     ges  * 

Washington 

his  cheerful  serenity,  his  pleasant  talk;  it 
is  his  gravity,  his  reticence,  even  his  melan 
choly  —  this  is  the  record.  Is  it  surprising 
in  one  who,  when  reticence  was  during  an 
angry  moment  broken,  had  declared  that  he 
would  rather  be  in  his  grave  than  in  his 
present  situation  ?  If  Arnold  had  added  a 
furrow  to  his  face,  there  must  have  been 
many  new  ones  by  this  time;  but  here  is  one 
word  about  himself,  written  in  considerable 

A 

indignation,  that  unveils  something  of  the 
depths  he  usually  concealed:  "Whether  you 
have,  upon  any  occasion,  expressed  yourself 
in  disrespectful  terms  of  me,  I  know  not  — 
it  has  never  been  the  subject  of  my  enquiry. 
If  nothing  impeaching  my  honor  or  honesty 
is  said,  I  care  little  for  the  rest.  I  have 
pursued  one  uniform  course  for  threescore 
years,  and  am  happy  in  believing  that  the 
world  have  thought  it  a  right  one  —  of  it's 
R  241 


being  so,  I  am  so  well  satisfied  myself,  that  I 
shall  not  depart  from  it  by  turning  either  to 
the  right  or  to  the  left,  until  I  arrive  at  the 
end  of  my  pilgrimage." 

An  agreeable  and  graphic  account  of 
Washington  the  President  is  given  in  the 
privately  published  memoirs  of  Mr.  Charles 
Riddle,  a  distinguished  Philadelphian  of  that 
day:  — 

"When  he  was  elected  President  of  the 
United  States,  he  lived  during  the  whole  of 
the  time  that  he  was  in  Philadelphia  nearly 
opposite  to  me.  At  that  time  I  saw  him 
almost  daily.  I  frequently  attended  levees 
to  introduce  some  friend  or  acquaintance, 
and  called  sometimes  with  Governor  Mifflin. 
The  General  always  behaved  politely  to  the 
Governor,  but  it  appeared  to  me  he  had  not 
forgotten  the  Governor's  opposition  to  him 
during  the  Revolutionary  war.  He  was  a 
most  elegant  figure  of  a  man,  with  so  much 
dignity  of  manners,  that  no  person  whatever 
242 


could  take  any  improper  liberties  with  him.   Seven 
I  have  heard  Mr.  Robert  Morris,  who  was  Ages  f 

frasbingto?i 

as  intimate  with  him  as  any  man  in  America, 
say  that  he  was  the  only  man  in  whose  pres 
ence  he  felt  any  awe.  You  would  seldom 
see  a  frown  or  a  smile  on  his  countenance, 
his  air  was  serious  and  reflecting,  yet  I  have 
seen  him  in  the  theatre  laugh  heartily.  Dr. 
Forrest,  who  laughs  a  great  deal,  desired 
me  one  night  at  the  theatre,  to  look  at 
General  Washington.  '  See  how  he  laughs, 
by  the  Lord  he  must  be  a  gentleman.' 
The  General  was  in  the  next  box,  and  I 
believe  heard  him.  He  was  much  more 
cheerful  when  he  was  retiring  from  office 
of  President  than  I  had  ever  seen  him  be 
fore.  Commodore  Barry,  Major  Jackson, 
and  myself  were  appointed  a  Committee 
of  the  Society  of  Cincinnati  to  wait  upon 
him  with  a  copy  of  an  address,  and  to  know 
when  it  would  be  convenient  for  the  Society 
to  wait  upon  him.  He  received  us  with  great 
243 


Seven  good  humor,  and  laughing,  told  us  that  he 

£//,.  had   heard   Governor   Morris    (I   believe  of 

Washington 

New  Jersey)  say  that  when  he  knew  gentle 
men  were  going  to  call  on  him  with  an  address, 
he  sent  to  beg  they  would  bring  an  answer. 
If  this  were  done  to  him,  he  observed  that  it 
would  save  him  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  He 
was  in  Philadelphia  a  short  time  before  he 
died,  and  I  thought  he  never  looked  better 
than  he  did  at  that  time.  .  .  .  He  was 
called  the  American  Fabius,  but  Fabius  was 
not  equal  to  George  Washington.  He  suf 
fered  Tarentum  to  be  pillaged  when  it  was 
traitorously  delivered  to  him,  and  his  op 
position  and  jealousy  of  Scipio  rendered  the 
Roman  unequal  to  the  American  hero." 

It  is  upon  the  day  of  his  release,  the  day 
when  public  burdens  fell  from  him,  and  the 
vine  and  fig-tree  began  to  draw  near  in  his 
hopes,  that  we  shall  take  our  farewell  look 
at  him.  His  successor,  John  Adams,  had 
finished  taking  his  oath;  Washington  turned 
244 


to  leave  the  assembly,  and  at  this  sight,  all  Seven 

who  could  do  so  crowded  from  their  places  to     £*': 

Washington 

the  hall,  that  they  might  see  the  last  of  him.  " 
He  passed  through  their  cheering  to  the  street, 
where  in  answer  he  waved  his  hat,  "  his 
countenance  radiant  with  benignity,  his  grey 
hairs  streaming  in  the  wind."  It  is  from  the 
lips  of  an  eye-witness  that  Irving  gives  this 
account.  "The  crowd  followed  him  to  his 
door;  there,  turning  round,  his  countenance 
assumed  a  grave  and  almost  melancholy 
expression,  his  eyes  were  bathed  in  tears, 
his  emotions  were  too  great  for  utterance, 
and  only  by  gestures  could  he  indicate  his 
thanks  and  convey  his  farewell  blessing." 
Three  years  of  quiet  he  lived  to  see,  and 
then  was  dead  after  brief  illness,  able  to  ride 
his  horse  to  within  three  days  of  the  end, 
and  ready  to  take  the  command  against 
France  in  case  of  war.  He  seemed  to  know 
his  illness  was  indeed  the  end,  although, 
during  the  twenty  hours  of  its  progress  he  let 
245 


them  try  what  remedies  they  wished;   when 

at  last  his  friend  Dr.  Craik  sat  on  his  bed, 

Washington 

and  took  his  head  in  his  lap,  he  said  with 
difficulty:  "Doctor,  I  am  dying,  and  have 
been  dying  for  a  long  time,  but  I  am  not 
afraid  to  die/' 


246 


VII.     IMMORTALITY 


WASHINGTON    MONUMfcN'i 


VII 

Go,  when  the  day  is  fine,  down  the  river  Seven 

to    Mount    Vernon.     There,    following    the    _£' 

Washington 

path  up  from  the  shore  among  the  trees, 
you  will  slowly  come  to  where  his  tomb  is, 
the  simple  vault  half  up  the  hill,  which  vines 
partly  cover,  built  according  to  his  directions. 
From  this  you  will  still  ascend  among  grass 
and  trees,  and  pass  up  by  old  buildings,  old 
barns,  an  old  coach-house  with  the  coach  in  it, 
and  so  come  to  the  level  green  upon  which  the 
house  gives  with  its  connecting  side  offices  at 
either  flank.  Inside  the  house,  all  through 
the  rooms  of  bygone  comfort  so  comfortable 
still,  so  mellowed  with  the  long  sense  of  home, 
you  will  feel  the  memory  of  his  presence 
strangely,  and  how  much  his  house  is  like 
him.  He  seems  to  come  from  his  battles  and 
249 


his  austere  fame,  and  to  be  here  by  the  fire 
place.  Here  are  some  of  his  very  books  on 
the  shelves,  here  the  stairs  he  went  up  and 
down,  here  in  the  hail  his  swords,  and  the 
key  of  the  Bastille  that  Lafayette  sent  to 
him.  Upstairs  is  the  room  he  died  in,  and 
the  bed;  still  above  this  chamber,  the  little 
room  where  Martha  Washington  lived  her 
last  years  after  his  death,  with  its  window 
looking  out  upon  the  tomb  where  he  was  first 
laid.  Everything,  every  object,  every  corner 
and  step,  seems  to  bring  him  close,  not  in  the 
way  of  speaking  of  him  or  breathing  of  him, 
as  some  memorial  places  seem  to  speak  and 
breathe  their  significance;  a  silence  fills  these 
passages  and  rooms,  a  particular  motionless- 
ness,  that  is  not  changed  or  disturbed  by  the 
constant  moving  back  and  forth  of  the  visitors. 
What  they  do,  their  voices,  their  stopping 
and  bending  to  look  at  this  or  that,  does  not 
seem  to  affect,  or  even  to  reach,  the  strange 
influence  that  surrounds  them.  It  is  an 
250 


exquisite  and  friendly  serenity  which  bathes  Seven 

one's  sense,  that  brings  him  so  near,  that  seems     ^ 

Washington 

to  be  charged  all  through  with  some  meaning 
or  message  of  beneficence  and  reassurance, 
but  nothing  that  could  be  put  into  words. 

And  then,  not  staying  too  long  in  the  house, 
stroll  out  upon  the  grounds.  Look  away  to 
the  woods  and  fields,  whence  he  rode  home 
from  hunting  with  Lord  Fairfax,  over  which 
his  maturer  gaze  roved  as  he  watched  his 
crops  and  his  fences,  and  to  which  his  majestic 
figure  came  back  with  pleasure  and  relief 
from  the  burdens  and  the  admiration  of  the 
world.  Turn  into  his  garden  and  look  at  the 
walls  and  the  walks  he  planned,  the  box  hedges, 
the  trees,  the  flower-beds,  the  great  order  and 
the  great  sweetness  everywhere.  And  among 
all  this,  still  the  visitors  are  moving,  looking, 
speaking,  the  men,  women,  and  children 
from  every  corner  of  the  country,  some  plain 
and  rustic  enough,  some  laughing  and  talking 
louder  than  need  be,  but  all  drawn  here  to 
251 


see  it,  to  remember  it,  to  take  it  home  with 
them,  to  be  in  their  own  ways  and  according 
to  their  several  lights  touched  by  it,  and  no 
more  disturbing  the  lovely  peace  of  it  than 
they  disturbed  the  house.  For  again,  as  in 
the  house,  only  if  possible  more  marvellously 
still,  there  comes  from  the  trees,  the  box 
hedges,  the  glimpses  of  the  river,  that  serenity 
with  its  message  of  beneficence  and  reas 
surance,  that  cannot  be  put  into  words. 
It  seems  to  lay  a  hand  upon  all  and  make 
them,  for  a  moment,  one.  You  may  spend 
an  hour,  you  may  spend  a  day,  wandering, 
sitting,  feeling  this  gentle  power  of  the  place ; 
you  may  come  back  another  time,  it  meets 
you,  you  cannot  dispel  it  by  familiarity. 

Then  go  down  the  hill  again,  past  the  old 
buildings,  past  the  tomb,  among  the  trees 
to  the  shore.  As  you  recede  from  the  shore, 
you  watch  the  place  grow  into  the  compact 
ness  of  distance,  and  then  it  seems  to  speak : 
"I  am  still  here,  my  countrymen,  to  do  you 
252 


what  good  I  can."  And  as  you  think  of  Seven 
this,  and  bless  the  devotion  of  those  whose  Washin  ton 
piety  and  care  treasure  the  place,  and  keep 
it  sacred  and  beautiful,  you  turn  and  look 
up  the  expanding  river.  From  behind  a 
wooded  point,  silent  and  far,  the  Nation's 
roof-tree,  the  dome  of  the  Capitol,  moves 
into  sight.  A  turn  of  the  river,  and  it  moves 
behind  the  point  again ;  but  now,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  wide  water  distance,  rises  that 
shaft  built  to  his  memory,  almost  seeming  to 
grow  from  the  stream  itself;  presently, 
shaft  and  dome  stand  out  against  the  sky, 
with  the  Federal  City  that  he  prophesied, 
Union's  hearth-stone  and  high-seat,  stretching 
between  them. 


253 


"  He  that  has  light  within  his  own  clear  breast 
May  sit  ?  the  centre,  and  enjoy  bright  day." 


CHRONOLOGY 


255 


CHRONOLOGY 


EVENTS 


Chronology 


AGE 


Emigration  of  John  and  Lawrence  Washington  to 
Virginia. 

Augustine  Washington,  father  of  George  Washing 
ton,  born. 

Feb.  22.  George  Washington  born  in  Westmore 
land  County,  Virginia. 

Family  moved  to  the  farm  now  known  as  Mount 

Vernon  .......  1-2 

April  12.      Death  of  Augustine  Washington  .       II 

George  sent  to  live  with  his  half-brother  Augustine 
at  birthplace  ...... 

Mansion  built  and  named  Mount  Vernon  by  his 
half-brother  Lawrence  .  .  .  .  .13 

He  returned  to  live  with  his  mother  at  Fredericks- 
burg.  School  ...... 

At  his  mother's  request  gave  up  entering  the  navy    .       14 

March  i  r .      Became  surveyor  for  Lord  Fairfax        .       1 6 

Appointed  public  surveyor  .          .          .          .          .17 

Military  inspector  with  rank  of  Major  to  protect 
Virginia  frontier  against  French  and  Indians  .  19 

Sept.  Journey  with  invalid  brother  Lawrence  to 
Barbadoes  .  .  .  .  .  .  19 

Adjutant-general.  Sept.  26.  Mount  Vernon  left 
him  by  Lawrence  .  .  .  .20 

Mission  to  the  frontier.      Venango,  Duquesne         .       21 

Lieutenant-colonel.  Great  Meadows  campaign. 
Venango,  Duquesne.  Ill  health.  Sojourns  at 
Mount  Vernon  .  .  ,  . 

Aide-de-camp  to  General  Braddock.  Venango,  Du 
quesne.  Commander-in-chief  of  the  Virginia  forces  23 


257 


Chronology 


DATE 


1756 
1758 

1759 
J7S9 
1765 

1770 
1774 

'774 
1775 


1776 


J777 


1778 


1779 
1780 
1781 

1782 
1783 


1784 


EVENTS 


Military  mission  to  New  York  and  Boston     . 

Ill  health.  Courtship.  March  to  the  Ohio.  Re 
signed  commission  ..... 

Jan.  6.      Married  to  Martha  Dandridge  Custis 

May.      Took  seat  in  House  of  Burgesses 

Commissioner  for  settling  the  military  accounts  of 
the  colony  ....... 

Journey  to  the  Ohio  and  Kenawha  rivers 

Member  of  the  Virginia  Convention  on  the  points 
at  issue  between  England  and  the  Colonies  . 

Sept.      Member  of  the  First  Continental  Congress   . 

May  10.  Member  of  the  Second  Continental  Con 
gress.  June  15.  Commander-in-chief.  July  3. 
Took  command  at  Cambridge.  Siege  of  Boston 

Mar.  17.  Boston  evacuated  by  British.  Aug.  27. 
Battle  of  Long  Island.  Dec.  26.  Battle  of 
Trenton.  Dec.  27.  Invested  by  Congress  with 
dictatorial  powers  ...... 

Jan.  3.  Battle  of  Princeton.  Winter  quarters  at 
Morristown.  Sept.  n.  Battle  of  Brandywinc. 
Oct.  4.  Battle  of  Germantown 

Winter  quarters  at  Valley  Forge.  Conway  Cabal. 
June  28.  Battle  of  Monmouth  Court-house  .  .  . 
Arrival  of  d'Estaing.  Winter  quarters  at  Mid- 
dlebrook  ....... 

July  1 6.      Capture  of  Stony  Point 

Arnold's  treason        ...... 

Jan.  i.  Pennsylvania  troops  mutiny.  Oct.  19. 
Surrender  of  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown 

Threatening  sedition  of  army  and  talk  of  dictator     . 

April  19.  Peace  proclaimed  to  the  army.  Nov.  2. 
His  farewell  to  the  army.  Dec.  4.  His  farewell 
to  his  generals.  Dec.  23.  He  resigned  his 
commission  at  Annapolis.  Dec.  24.  Home  to 
Mount  Vernon  ...... 

Journey  to  the  western  country    .... 

258 


DATE 


EVENTS 


AGI 


Chronology 


1787  May  14.  Delegate  to  Constitutional  Convention  at 

Philadelphia.  President  of  the  Convention  .  55 

1789  President  of  the  United  States.  Apr.  30.  Inaugu 
rated  in  New  York.  Journey  through  Eastern 
States 57 

1791        Journey  through  Southern  States  .          .          .59 

1793  Second  time  President  of  United  States.  The  epi 
sode  of  Genet,  minister  from  France  .  .61 

1 796  Sept.    1 7.      Farewell  address  to    the  people  of  the 

United  States        ......       64 

1797  Home  to  Mount  Vernon.     Troubles  with  France. 

Preparations  for  war       .          .          .          .  65 

1798  July  3.      Commander-in-chief  of  the  armies  of  the 

United  States        ......      66 

1799  Dec.  14.     Died  at  Mount  Vernon       .          .          .67 


259 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


261 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The    Writings   of  George   Washington.       Collected  and    Bibliography 

edited    by    Worthington    Chauncey    Ford.      Letter 
press  Edition.      G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons.      New  York. 

1893. 
The   Life   of  Washington,   by   Washington    Irving.      In 

8  volumes.      G.   P.   Putnam* s  Sons.      New  York. 

1855-59. 
The  True  History  of  the  Revolution,  by  Sydney  George 

Fisher.    J.  B.  Lippincott  Co.     Philadelphia.      1902. 
Alexander  Hamilton,  by  Frederick  Scott  Oliver.      G.  P. 

Putnam's  Sons.      New  York.      1907. 
Patrick    Henry,    by    Moses    Coit    Tyler.       Houghton, 

Mifflin  &  Company.      Boston.      1887. 
The  True  Thomas  Jefferson,  by  William  Eleroy  Curtis. 

J.  B.  Lippincott  Co.      Philadelphia.      1901. 
George  Washington*  s  Rules  of  Civility,  by  Moncure  D. 

Conway.     John  W.  Lovell  Company.      New  York. 

1890. 
Life  of  the  Hon.   Jeremiah  Smith,   LL.D.,  by  John  H. 

Morison.       Charles    C.     Little    &    James    Brown. 

Boston.      1845. 
And  the  memoirs,  privately  published,  of  Benjamin  Rush 

and  Charles  Biddle,  together  with  the  files  of  Fre- 

neau*  s    Gazette    and    Backers  Aurora,    during    the 

terms  of  Washington's  presidency. 

263 


FOURTEEN  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 


This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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IJBB, 


-MAfr 


?~~MAR  3     1959 


LD  21-100m-2,'55 
(B139s22)476 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


YB  37723 


>fta 


3; 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


